A Soldier's Girl
by ladygris
Summary: They met at a wedding, and neither one wanted a romance.  When circumstances explode, Sara must decide if she's got what it takes to be. . .A Soldier's Girl.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Stargate: Atlantis or these great characters. All original characters, however, are my doing. Any similarity to another person, real or fictional, is purely coincidental and not the intent of the author.

**Author's Note:** So, this story came about while I was writing "Remnant of Fire." I needed a break from the intensity of the story and began this by freewriting. I story-boarded this one after "Remnant of Fire" ended. It is completely written and awaiting posting days. Also, I know a lot of you were looking for "Vantage Point." This is the SAME story. However, as I wrote it, I noticed that "Vantage Point" didn't fit the theme of the story. Therefore, I changed the title to "A Soldier's Girl." Don't be fooled, though. There's a lot of fluff in here, but it's not all fluff. A big thanks to **theicemenace** for her patient beta work and comments along the way. And to **Shadows-of-Realm** for technical advice. Those portions of the story wouldn't be as good if it wasn't for that. I know how to use my computer, but he helped me figure out how _Rodney_ would use a computer. In addition, I have used some terminology that we all recognize, though this story is not at all intended to be a spin-off or cross-over of the CSI franchise. All that said, I hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

The poor woman never had a chance.

SaraLeigh Johnson stepped into the crime scene, wrinkling her nose at the coppery scent of blood. She wore a dark blue jumpsuit over her jeans and t-shirt, hiding all her womanly curves. And her hair had been slicked back into a bun. Good thing she had to wash it after this job or she would never be ready for the next one.

Trying not to look at the gruesome scene in the office, she slipped paper booties over her tennis shoes and began to work. Her job as a forensic photographer required her to be the first on scene after a crime had been reported and forensics called in. She often saw the things no one else wanted to see. The only job worse than hers had to be that of the medical pathologist. Or the serologist, depending on the case.

Lifting her camera, SaraLeigh pointed her lens and started shooting. She didn't stop until she reached the center of the crime scene. The deceased, a woman in her late forties, wore the attire of a secretary, and a scattered file rested near her right arm. Sara took numerous shots of the file, making sure to get a close up of every page. The next team to get the crime scene, the CSIs, waited impatiently at the door for her to finish her work, but she refused to be rushed. They'd get their chance to tell her where to point and click her camera soon enough. For now, she needed to take her time and respectfully document the dead woman's position so that justice could be served.

If it wasn't for the gaping hole in the back of the woman's head and the dark entrance wound in her forehead, Sara might have thought her asleep. But the gruesome evidence of murder, plus the jimmied lock she'd just noticed, told her that this woman hadn't died of an unfortunate heart attack. Someone wanted her dead, and that motive might still be in this room.

Finally finished documenting all she could, she nodded to the CSIs in the door, letting them begin telling her when and where to shoot her camera. She did her job well, and most of what they found that she hadn't already photographed were hidden clues, like fingerprints. Sara worried that this killer might be tougher to find than most when she overheard the others talking about not finding a shell casing. What kind of killer policed his brass? A good one, a professional one, and one that didn't need to be loose on the streets of San Francisco.

With her job mostly complete, SaraLeigh allowed herself to think about her next job. She buried her smile as she packed her camera and headed for her dark room in the crime lab. She'd use her own camera, not the department's. And she'd be photographing something infinitely happier.

She'd been hired to photograph a wedding. Well, the bride had offered to hire her, but SaraLeigh had refused payment. Jennifer Keller had been a scared kid back when the two of them graduated high school, and Sara happily planned to capture every perfect moment during this wedding. She didn't know what Jennifer had been doing all these years, and she didn't care. She'd heard on a trip back to Chippewa Falls that Jennifer had become a rather good doctor, and Sara had been thrilled for her. Now, she couldn't wait to shower, rest a bit, and then dress in such a way that no one noticed her. If she did her job well, the Keller-McKay wedding would be perfectly documented, and no one would even remember what she looked like. Just the way she wanted this kind of job to go.

oOo

That afternoon, after a few hours of rest, SaraLeigh slipped into the hotel rented for the wedding and looked around. Whoever had decorated had done a wonderful job, and she already saw touches of Jennifer in the bright flowers that fluttered in the breeze. An archway of wisteria led guests into the chairs, and another archway laden with roses stood at the front, waiting for a unity candle, an officiant, and the bride and groom.

"Ms. Johnson?" The direct yet kind voice drew her attention, and she turned to stare into the bluest set of eyes she'd ever seen. The usher wore the Class A uniform of the Air Force, and Sara's lips turned upward of their own volition. The usher smiled at her, his eyes sparkling. "Ah. . .The Doc asked me to show you to her when you arrived."

"Oh, okay." SaraLeigh hefted the case with her extra lenses and film, flushing a little at getting caught staring at him. "I'm ready."

He smiled and stuck out his hand, clearly seeing her momentary distraction. "Major Evan Lorne."

Juggling things around, she managed to shake his hand. "SaraLeigh Johnson. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." He took the case from her hand, ignored her protests, and promptly carried it down a short hall. As she followed him, SaraLeigh considered his photogenic qualities. His dark hair, spiking just a touch at the front, and his blue eyes made her want to grab her camera and hire him as a model. She might have to sneak a few shots of him to round out the wedding album.

He stopped at a door and knocked. A minute later, a woman with caramel colored skin and auburn hair appeared. "Yes? Oh, Major, thank you." She reached out and tugged Sara inside.

Jennifer Keller made a beautiful bride. She stood in front of a mirror, surveying herself as a woman with short brown hair fastened several dozen tiny pearl buttons up the back of her dress. The dress itself looked like a classic princess gown. An A-line, off-the-shoulder gown that barely brushed the ground, it hugged Jennifer's hourglass figure while preserving her demure, girl-next-door beauty. Her hair had been curled and pinned on top of her head, with a few curls falling loosely from the messy pile. A single strand of pearls circled Jennifer's neck and matched the pearl drop earrings she wore. A pair of long white gloves waited next to a pair of plain white flats. SaraLeigh suddenly felt dowdy next to her stunning friend.

Jennifer turned before the other woman finished buttoning the gown, and a brilliant smile covered her face. "Sara!" She moved to hug her, and SaraLeigh gladly returned the embrace. "You came!"

"Of course I came." SaraLeigh stepped back to survey Jennifer's appearance. "You look great!"

"So do you."

"Yeah, right." SaraLeigh snorted at the notion. She'd wore a navy blue dress that ended at her ankles, loose enough that she'd be able to squat and kneel for her photography but still look nice. She'd also dressed to seem invisible to most of the wedding guests. She wore no jewelry save the bracelet around her left wrist. And her long hair had been pulled into an elegant but subdued ponytail for the duration of the wedding. Instead of continuing that line of thought, she motioned to Jennifer's gown. "When you said _Sleeping Beauty-_type gown, you weren't kidding."

"I know, but I love it." Jennifer smiled softly. "And I think Rodney will love it, too."

The woman who had been buttoning the back of the gown choked out a laugh. "Are you kidding? That man worships the ground you walk on."

As if remembering that they weren't alone, Jennifer turned and motioned to the woman. "Dr. Amanda Cole, one of my colleagues on base. And, behind you, is Teyla Emmagan."

SaraLeigh wanted to ask where Teyla was from based on her unusual name and coloring, but she refrained as she shook both women's hands. She turned back to Jennifer. "Do you have everything you're supposed to have?" When Jennifer looked blankly at her, she rolled her eyes. "'Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?'"

Jennifer's blank looked faded into understanding while Teyla's face dissolved into confusion. "Let's see, I have my mother's pearls and a new dress. I have a little blue flower on my. . . .Never mind." Her face turned a bright red. "And I borrowed. . . . ." Her eyes grew wide. "I don't have anything borrowed."

SaraLeigh grinned. "Give me a few moments to think."

As she turned to pull out her camera out of its case, someone knocked on the door. Teyla again answered it, this time admitting the very attractive Major masquerading as an usher. Jennifer moved to his side, and SaraLeigh vaguely wondered why her friend wasn't with him. They made a very striking pair. Then, Jennifer's face paled, and she blinked.

SaraLeigh set down her camera and moved to Jennifer's side. "What is it?"

"There's a problem with the tuxes." Jennifer seemed a little frazzled, all the joy of a few moments ago fading away. "I thought we had everything under control. I mean, Laura's late thanks to that fender-bender, and Carson went to get her. But everything else was okay! The tuxes were delivered last night, and John's wearing his dress blues. And. . . . Give me a few moments, Evan. I'll. . . ."

"You'll stay here," SaraLeigh announced. As both Jennifer and Major Lorne blinked at her in surprise, she touched Jennifer's arm. "I've done a few weddings in the last couple months. I can probably help resolve the issue. And, if you've got a cell phone somewhere in here, I can communicate with you."

Jennifer let out a relieved sigh. "Would you? I mean, Amanda's got a digital camera and can take pictures back here."

"I'd love to." At that moment, Sara caught sight of her arm and had an idea. "And I solved the borrowed." She started to take off the diamond and sapphire tennis bracelet she wore.

Jennifer shook her head. "I can't. It was your mother's."

"And she'd be thrilled that you wore it to your wedding." SaraLeigh touched her arm. "Just get it back to me before you leave for your honeymoon." Not giving Jennifer a chance to argue, she nodded toward the door and stepped back out into the hallway with Major Lorne.

He grinned at her as they headed down the hall toward the groom's room. "Nicely done."

"If I'd stayed, she would have argued until I felt bad about it." SaraLeigh shook her head. "Not about to happen today."

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded once and opened a door, stepping into the room ahead of her. "I have Jennifer's emissary."

"Is she okay?" The panicky voice went with a slightly plump, older man with a crooked bow tie. "I mean, she's fine, right? She's not thinking about. . . ."

Another guy, this one in dress blues, touched his shoulder. "McKay, relax." He turned to her. "I'm John Sheppard. And this," he said as he motioned to the older man, "is Dr. Rodney McKay. The groom."

Sara shook their hands and repeated her name. "I hear there's a problem."

"Yeah." The answer came from a massive guy with dreadlocks who stood next to the window. He wore a white button-down shirt and black pants, a tuxedo jacket hanging from his hand. "This is too small."

She wanted to say she wasn't surprised but nodded instead. "I see."

John stepped forward. "My idea was for him to wear the suit jacket he wore last night, along with the bow tie."

SaraLeigh shrugged. "That might work. Let me see what that looks like next to Rodney." A moment later, she had the massive guy, named Ronon, standing next to McKay. Nodding her head, she said, "That should work. I can photograph things in such a way that it won't seem out of place. Just don't let Jennifer know that its a different jacket. She probably won't even notice."

"Speaking of, can you get a message to her?" Rodney held up a finger.

Sara shook her head. "I would love to, but I'm going to say no. I'll let her know you're thinking about her, though."

Rodney accepted that and went back to pacing in front of the window, momentarily panicking when John asked if he'd forgotten the wedding ring. SaraLeigh waved to a smirking John and a confused Ronon and left the room. As the door closed, she heard Ronon say, "I look dumb."

She couldn't help it. The snicker just wouldn't stay contained. After a few laughs, she saw Major Lorne grinning at her again. She flushed "Sorry. He just sounded. . .put out."

The major nodded. "Yeah, he. . .ah. . .sounds like that a lot."

"You work with him?"

"He's a private contractor working with our outfit." Lorne shrugged. "Thank you for handling this, Ms. Johnson."

"You're a good friend of Jennifer's, so my name is 'SaraLeigh.'" She smiled at him, not minding the way his blue eyes lingered on her face and caused her to flush again. "'Sara,' for short."

"I'm 'Evan.'" His smile again covered his face.

"Nice to meet you, Evan." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the door to the bride's room. "I have work, but I'll see you around."

She stepped into the room, closing the door in time to hear another muttered comment from behind her. Sure that Evan hadn't meant for her to hear him, she still flushed when he said, "Yes, you will."

Finding Jennifer fully dressed, including gloves, shoes, and borrowed bracelet, SaraLeigh grinned. "It's now ten minutes after the time that the service was supposed to start. Shall we get this show on the road?"

~TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Jennifer and Rodney's wedding went off with only minor problems. The maid-of-honor and best man arrived in style—a police car—just as the opening strains of the processional began. SaraLeigh captured the moment of the two of them climbed out of the car on film for all posterity, knowing that Jennifer would appreciate it in the days ahead. She turned around and caught Evan's eye, and she realized she'd made a huge impression by photographing the moment. She just hoped she got to hear the entire story after the wedding.

As the bridesmaids and groomsmen walked down the aisle, Sara snapped pictures and pushed away the image of her last photo shoot. This was not the place to be thinking about a murder scene. This was her friend's wedding, and she needed to get her head in the game. Blinking a few times, she lifted her camera and caught the moment that Rodney saw his bride for the first time. The awe that came over his face transformed him from a panicky, worried man into someone who actually tugged a little at Sara's heart strings.

As the photographer, she managed to move around quite a lot during the wedding. She slipped off her heels, however, to keep from tripping. But, otherwise, she managed to get all the shots she wanted. . .and then some.

The big groomsman, Ronon, turned out to be very photogenic. In spite of his declaration that he looked "dumb," he stood next to Rodney with the same pride that a brother might have. Just what had these guys been doing that created such bonds?

Once the officiant announced that Jennifer and Rodney were married and the guests had filed out, it became SaraLeigh's show. She gathered the wedding party to the front of the church and started snapping pictures. As she worked, however, the memory of her last job intruded, and she let out a deep breath. She didn't need to have a breakdown right here. Not in front of all these strangers. She'd wait until she was alone, at home, to react to the horror of seeing a woman's head splattered across the floor.

oOo

Major Evan Lorne stood behind the wedding party in his favorite spot. He'd already scoped out the area and decided that the best place for him was out of the limelight. That spot belonged to Rodney and Jennifer. Watching the newlyweds, Evan shook his head. While he hadn't liked McKay when they first met, the physicist had earned his respect by saving Atlantis and everyone there time and time again.

Now, however, Evan watched the photographer. SaraLeigh Johnson snapped pictures of the wedding party quickly and with the practiced eye of a professional. She gave them clear instructions, making sure each member of the party, including ushers, got a fair amount of images for the wedding album. The woman honestly surprised him. When Jennifer told them that a friend from high school would be doing the photography, he'd expected another woman Jennifer's age. While Jennifer was the most brilliant doctor Evan had ever known, she was also innocent. At least, she was before Pegasus.

SaraLeigh, however, had experienced eyes. Those eyes that changed color depending on his location showed more than she realized. She wore her hair slicked back into a long ponytail, the simplicity of the style looking elegant on her. Her navy dress complimented Jennifer's wedding colors, but it didn't draw any attention to her. Rather matronly, if anyone cared to ask. All by design, he suspected. Sara had done everything in her power to ensure that Jennifer and Rodney took the spotlight. With dark auburn hair like that, however, she'd managed to snag the attention of every unattached male in the room, Evan included.

And she'd been distracted. Several times during the ceremony, SaraLeigh seemed to lose focus. She caught herself, shaking her head and blinking as she got back into the game. That worried Evan on several levels. What had happened to distract a woman from a wedding? He wasn't an expert, but he knew enough to recognize that it wasn't a good thing. Perhaps she'd had an argument with someone on her way over here. That would explain the tired eyes. If that were true, then why was he noticing her? Jennifer had said nothing about her beyond that she was a photographer. Was she in some sort of abusive situation?

"Major Lorne." SaraLeigh's firm voice broke into his thoughts, and he blinked as he got _his_ head back into the game. "Would you stand with Drs. Beckett and Zelenka, Colonel Sheppard, and Mr. Dex, please. I'd like a shot of all the ushers and groomsmen."

"Ah. . .yeah." Evan ignored Sheppard's questioning look and stepped up next to Radek. He drew himself up to his full height and matched Sheppard's reserved smile. They were soldiers, and they'd behave like soldiers. The odd protectiveness that welled in him was likely due to his recent adventures in Pegasus. Atlantis might be back on Earth, but he still couldn't relax after coming home. He'd left a job undone, and it bugged him.

As SaraLeigh snapped the shot, he narrowed his eyes. He'd just recognized the haunted, glazed look on her face. He wore the same one after a mission gone wrong. Just who was this woman?

oOo

Jennifer's wedding was a massive success. SaraLeigh stood in front of the now-cut wedding cake, her camera no longer lifted to snap pictures. She'd lost focus a few times, but that was to be expected after the night she'd had. Still, being here brought out the injustices in life.

One woman's life with her husband began on the same day that another's ended. Sara wished she could change that, but she knew life wasn't fair. Still. . .had that woman's husband loved her as much as Rodney loved Jennifer? Had she been the light of his life? What had caused someone to put a bullet through her skull? The red roses on the cake blended into the bloody images in Sara's mind, and she swallowed a sudden wave a nausea. She wouldn't lose it here.

"Hey." Major Lorne's voice broke through her thoughts, and the roses became roses again.

SaraLeigh turned. "Major."

He frowned at her. "I thought we agreed to be informal for the day."

"I apologize, _Evan_." She smiled at him, liking the way his eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of the reception hall.

"Are you done for the evening?" he asked with a motion toward her camera.

"Yes." She smiled ruefully. "Jennifer and Rodney are off on their honeymoon, and it's up to the guests to decide when it's time to leave. Although," she said as she looked around, "a lot of them are rather sloshed."

"Yeah, you noticed that, too?" He also looked around. "Listen, they're about to shut down the music for the night, but I wondered if you'd join me for a dance before they do that."

SaraLeigh stared. He wanted to dance with her? "Um. . .I'm not. . . ."

"Don't tell me it's because you don't want to take attention away from Jennifer." He pinned her in place with a single look. "She's gone, and they're about to shut things down. Just one dance?" He held out his hand.

She stared at his hand while biting her lip. It was the one bad habit she'd never been able to break, and it cropped up now with a vengeance. Her feet hurt, and she just wanted to go home and go to bed. To forget about anything related to crime scenes and photography for a while. Being here, at Jennifer's wedding, helped, but it wasn't the decompression that she needed. Still. . . . What harm would a single dance do?

Decision made, SaraLeigh took Evan's hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. The DJ played a slow song, and Evan pulled her into his arms. With her two-inch heels, she looked him in the eye. That didn't stop him from flirting without saying a word. His sparkling eyes, combined with his dress blues, made for a very attractive picture. For a moment, she regretted that she'd have to give all her pictures of him to Jennifer when she returned from her honeymoon. SaraLeigh quashed the temptation to hold one picture back for herself. She would just have to do with the memory of his amazing eyes so close to her own.

"You've known Jennifer a long time." Evan's statement gently pried for information.

"Yeah, since high school." Even though it had been a long time since she'd danced, the steps returned as Evan led her around the dance floor. She vaguely realized that others had joined them for what would likely be the final hurrah for the night. "She's a couple years younger than me, though, and we graduated together."

"And you went into photography."

"Yes." The one topic SaraLeigh didn't want to discuss. "What about you? What do you do for the Air Force?"

The sparkle in his eyes died just a touch. "Can't say."

"Classified." She nodded. "Jennifer told me that when she came home two months ago."

"Sorry." He seemed genuine in his apology.

"Don't be." She shrugged. "I'm not really allowed to talk about my work, either. My day job is. . .intense."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't let her go. Just held her close without being inappropriate. SaraLeigh let out a deep breath and reminded herself to relax. No one here would hurt her. For some reason, she felt safe surrounded by these friends of Jennifer's. She particularly felt safe in the arms of this major who so completely overwhelmed her with just a single smile. "So, where are you from?"

"Believe it or not, here." He chuckled. "I grew up in San Francisco, but I've been out of the country for the last few years. It's nice to be back."

"So, you're on leave?"

"Not exactly. I'm. . .stationed nearby."

"At a place I'm not supposed to know about." She smiled when a guarded look crossed his face. "I'm not going to stalk you or anything. Just trying to get to know one of Jennifer's friends."

The discomfort disappeared as the music ended. For a moment, SaraLeigh regretted the timing. She wanted to get to know this man, more than she'd wanted to in the past. And it seemed her opportunity had slipped right through her fingers. With Jennifer no longer at the wedding, she had no compunctions about not being the center of attention for just one person. She opened her mouth to say something, but the best man rushed over.

"Excuse me. Miss Johnson?" His Scottish accent pulled her attention from Evan's profile.

"Yes?"

"I'm Carson Beckett." He stuck out his hand and waited while SaraLeigh shook it. "Jennifer wanted me to leave this with you."

She stared at the tennis bracelet that she'd loaned her friend. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, lass." Carson eyed Evan for a moment and moved to leave them alone.

Sara had other ideas, however. "Excuse me, Dr. Beckett?"

"Aye?"

"What happened before the wedding? You know, with the police?"

Carson smirked. "Lieutenant Cadman was running late and trying to get here. Someone else didn't see the stop sign and took out her car."

"Ouch."

"Aye." Beckett smiled. "But she'll be fine."

"I'm glad." Sara let him go. She would have simply stuck the bracelet into her pocket, but it was too valuable for that. Besides, she had no pockets. So, she took on the daunting task of trying to fasten the bracelet around her left wrist using her right hand. Not the best proposition in the world as she was left handed.

"Here." Evan took her hand gently in his and quickly had the bracelet fastened. His fingers brushed her wrist ever so softly and made her aware of him in a way she'd never experienced before. What was it about this man that drew her attention? He cleared his throat as he finished. "Ah. . .would it be possible for me to get your number?"

She blinked at him.

He smiled. "I was thinking maybe we could go out sometime. Get something to eat."

As he floundered, she grinned. Maybe she wasn't the only one overwhelmed at this moment. "Are you asking me out?"

"I'm asking if you'd be willing to let me ask you out."

She stared at him for another moment, wondering just what kind of man he really was. "I'll get you my card."

He accepted that with a nod and followed her to where she'd already packed up her camera and equipment. She pulled out a pen and scribbled her personal cell number on the back of her business card.

Evan slipped it into his pocket. "I have to go out of town this week, but maybe over the weekend?"

"Sounds good." SaraLeigh watched him leave then and forced herself to focus on getting home. She'd just watched her high school best friend get married and managed to pick up a date. . .all in the same night!

~TBC


	3. Chapter 3

SaraLeigh's cell phone rang just as she walked out of another crime scene. This one didn't incite the nightmares that the dead woman had, being only a home invasion gone awry. The homeowners would likely require therapy after being held hostage for an hour, but all had escaped relatively unscathed. Now, she glared at her cell phone, trying to figure out who would be calling her from a restricted number. She punched the answer button. "Hello?"

"SaraLeigh?"

Her tension faded instantly as she recognized Evan's voice. "Yes! Hi!"

"Ah. . .this isn't a bad time, is it?"

"No, just getting off work for the day." She glanced over her shoulder at the amount of police still around the scene. "It was murder," she said, using the morbid joke a lot of her detective friends used.

"I see." His voice dropped slightly. "So would it be a bad night to ask you to dinner or a good one?"

Sara's heart skipped a beat. For the last week, she'd alternated between believing that he really was out of town and wondering if he was just being nice to Jennifer's friend when he asked for her number. "It's a great night," she said. Setting her camera in her truck, she hesitated to climb into the driver's seat. "As long as it's not dressy."

"I was thinking a stroll on the Fisherman's Wharf, along with clam chowder in a bread bowl."

"Sounds perfect." She glanced down at her clothes. "Give me a couple of hours to get home and cleaned up."

Evan took directions to her home and hung up after assuring her that he'd come pick her up for the evening. SaraLeigh held her cell phone in her hand as she adjusted to her reality. She had a date with the gorgeous Air Force major who'd ushered at Jennifer's wedding! What would Jennifer think about that?

"Sara!" Detective Nathan Keith rushed to her side. "You got plans for the evening?"

She sighed. Nathan was a good man, but she had no interest in dating someone from work. And he seemed to think he could change her mind. "Yes, I do."

"Oh." His face fell, and she almost felt bad for crushing his hopes. Almost. "What about tomorrow evening?"

"Yes, tomorrow evening, too." She didn't tell him that her plans for the next evening included her cat and a bowl of popcorn in front of a TV movie she'd wanted to see since it had been advertised. A smile touched her face. "Nathan, I'm sorry, but I really need to go. I'm having dinner with someone and need to get cleaned up."

He nodded once. "Maybe next weekend."

"I don't know." She smiled at him. "If tonight goes well, I might have plans for next weekend, too."

"New guy?" His eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"No one that you would know." She shook her head at his protective question. "I met him at my friend's wedding last week. He's in the military." As he opened his mouth to say something else, she held up a hand. "I _really_ need to go."

"Enjoy your evening," Nathan said as she climbed into her truck. SaraLeigh drove away already going through her wardrobe. Evan had said "casual," but casual to one person was different for another. She arrived home and walked through the door to a mess of water and cat food on the kitchen floor. Sitting in front of it, her calico, Zoey, meowed lightly as she pawed at the soggy cat food.

Sara dropped her purse and keys on the tall square table next to the breakfast bar. "What have you done, now?"

Zoey meowed again and ambled over to wrap herself around Sara's ankles. She purred lightly as her owner rubbed her back.

SaraLeigh let out a breath and set about cleaning up the mess. She fed the cat in the kitchen, where she could sweep the food off of the floor. Along with soggy cat food and a puddle of water, she found the cat's favorite toy: the little plastic ring that she'd torn from the milk jug that morning. Zoey had obviously been enjoying the newest addition to her stash when she made the mess. After drying it off, she tossed it into the living room, and the cat bounded after it.

Shaking her head, SaraLeigh headed for the bedroom. She quickly grabbed the jeans and tailored blouse she'd mentally chosen for the evening and dove into the shower. As the hot water washed away the stress of the day, the anticipation and stress of having a date with Evan rose to the surface. She washed her hair and let the hot water soothe the tension from her shoulders. Evan didn't want anything fancy. In fact, he'd already told her exactly the speed he wanted this evening to take. Besides, the Fisherman's Wharf was one of her favorite haunts in San Francisco.

Two hours after she ended the call, Evan knocked on the door. Sara answered with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I'm running a few minutes behind. I came home to a mess."

"No worries." He smiled at her, his blue eyes sparkling as she let him into the house.

Mumbling another apology, she rushed back to her bedroom, where she finished her outfit by adding a dash of perfume and slipping into comfortable boots. As she walked back into the living room, her extra cash tucked in a pocket, she spotted Evan squatting down and petting Zoey. "Are you the reason for the mess?" he softly asked the cat. Zoey replied with a meow and a soft purr.

As soon as she appeared, Evan gave Zoey a final pat and stood. "You ready?"

"Yes." She smiled at him. "Thank you for waiting."

"No problem." He pulled out his keys as she locked her front door. Then, he opened the passenger door on a late model sedan and waited while she climbed inside. SaraLeigh watched him round the car and shook her head. No man, other than her father, had ever treated her like this. Evan slid into the car, started the engine, and pointed it in the direction of the Fisherman's Wharf. "I'll be honest and say I'm celebrating a little tonight."

Her eyebrows rose. "Celebrating by taking me out?"

He glanced at her, his blue eyes piercing. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No." She couldn't think of a reasonable explanation for her surprise. "What, exactly, are you celebrating?"

"Ah. . ." He grinned. "I am now Lieutenant Colonel Lorne."

"You were promoted?" She impulsively reached out and touched his arm. "Evan, that's great!"

"Thanks." He shook his head. "I never thought I'd make it this far in the Air Force, so I'm still adjusting. My team likes to tease me about being the old man, so I told them I was going out to celebrate tonight. They're thinking girls and partying. But, like they say, I'm getting too old for that."

She wanted to deny that statement, but she couldn't. She liked the fact that he'd thought about her when he was ready to celebrate. "Well, thank you for bringing me along."

At the Fisherman's Wharf, he parked and opened her door for her. Sara admitted to herself that she liked how special it made her feel. She allowed Evan to pick a direction and fell into step with him. He strolled, weaving in and out of people as they chatted. Much of their initial conversation centered on the wharf itself and some of its attractions.

"So, I never asked you what you do for a living," he said after he'd paid for two bread bowls of clam chowder. They settled on a bench near the marina where the night breeze ruffled the ends of her hair.

Sara looked down quickly, trying to figure out how to answer that. Most guys she'd met either worked with her or found her job too morbid to even stomach. Evan would appreciate honesty, though, so she opted for the blunt answer. "I'm a forensic photographer with the San Francisco PD. I'm also doing some studying to become a full-fledged CSI. Every now and then, I get to help out on a case and process more than my own photos."

He blinked at her. "You go in and photo crime scenes?"

"Yes."

His eyes narrowed for a few seconds, and she had the insane suspicion that he'd just adjusted his opinion of her. "And last week, at the wedding. . .you'd just come from a crime scene?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "Is it what you want to do?"

"Not really." She shifted in her seat. "I want to eventually work for myself, selling my photos as art rather than evidence for court. I know I'm doing some good by documenting these crime scenes, but it's. . . ."

"Difficult." He finished her sentence.

"Yes." She shrugged. "I have to have a steady income, however, until I get my big break. Until then, I keep working, submitting photos to contests and such, and just living my life."

"So you still do photography on the side, both as a hobby and a job?"

"Yeah. I usually go out every other weekend to shoot various parts of California." She grinned. "Then, on the off weekends, I spend them in my dark room. That's part of my plan for tomorrow. I've got some images of the coastline I want to get developed."

"Dark room?" He grinned slightly. "You don't use a dSLR?"

"No." Sara shook her head, somewhat surprised he knew about digital single lense reflex cameras. "I'm a bit of an old fashioned girl. I use a dSLR at work, but I enjoy watching the photos develop. Now, if I ever get my big break, I'll by one."

He ate a few more bites, watching her closely. "Now I understand why work was so tough today."

"Today wasn't too bad." SaraLeigh waved off his questions about her job, not really ready to detail what she considered "bad." "What about you? Other than the Air Force, you must have something to keep yourself busy."

"Ah. . .yeah." He gave her a funny little grin, almost like he wasn't sure how she'd react. "Since you were open with your hobby, I'll be open about mine. I paint."

She blinked at him. "Paint?" Then, she shook her head. "I never pictured you as an artist. I mean, you're in the military, so I think soldier. Commander. Boxing, sports, stuff like that. But _painting_? Not that it's a bad thing, but I'm just a little surprised. That's all." She forced herself to stop talking as his grin widened. "What?"

"You're cute when you're flustered." The compliment, so directly stated, brought a flush to her cheeks. "My mom is a retired college art professor. When I was growing up, she taught high school. We painted on the weekends." He shrugged. "And I've been known to enjoy the occasional sparring match with my team."

Sara flushed again, this time at the image of him in a gym, covered in sweat. "So how does the military fit into that?"

"My dad." He shrugged. "My father was in the Army, and he wanted me to go into the Army. I wanted to fly, so I joined the Air Force. He wasn't too thrilled with me for a few months. Then, when I went into OTS, he came to terms with it."

"OTS?"

"Officer's Training School." He eyed her. "What about you? How does photography fit into your life?"

"I'm not entirely sure." She laughed with him. "I was a sophomore in high school, and I had this weird idea to take journalism. I wound up on the yearbook committee, taking candid shots, and I just fell in love with the camera. I guess I see things a little differently than most, though."

"Most artists do." He shrugged. "I see things as color, light and dark, shades of gray."

"You would have to be comfortable with that as a soldier." She shrugged. "I see life as a series of moments meant to be experienced. Maybe one lingers longer than the other, but all of them are important. I try to capture those moments."

They fell silent after that, neither one feeling the need to fill the moments with conversation. The breeze blew Sara's hair back from her face, and she looked out over the boats docked at the Wharf. This was a moment she wanted to remember for a long time.

oOo

Later that evening, Evan drove away from SaraLeigh's house with a grin. He had signed up for prepaid cell service that day, and he made sure she had the number.

The evening was exactly what he'd wanted. Sara was easy to talk to, and she didn't put any pressure on him beyond simple curiosity. While her questions included the Air Force, she never pushed him to reveal what he actually did with the Air Force. It was simply a fact of his life. Instead, she'd wanted to know about _him_.

Leaving the sedan parked at a prearranged location, Evan pulled the remote from his pocket and opened the cloaked Puddle Jumper. Until arrangements could be made, Atlantis's personnel were ferried back and forth from San Francisco in one of three Jumpers. He'd asked about anyone going tonight, but he was alone for this flight. Which suited him just fine. He needed to consider things with SaraLeigh before he called her again.

The woman amazed him. Now that she'd told him what she did for a living, he understood the distraction at Jennifer and Rodney's wedding. She hadn't had a chance to react and cope with a gruesome murder before being thrust into the stress of capturing the McKays' special day. He also understood her comment about work being murder. For her, it was literal.

As he flew back to the cloaked city sitting just outside the San Francisco Bay, Evan shook his head. He'd managed to avoid romantic relationship during his time in the military. Seeing his parents struggle when his father went TDY or on long tours without the family made him decide early on to avoid that at all costs. Now, he'd found a lady who more than interested him. SaraLeigh Johnson had a strength of character that hid behind her long hair and bewitching eyes.

Could she handle what he actually did for a living? He let out a deep breath as he thought back over the last few months. Nearly dying on the Super Hive that attacked Earth had changed his perspective. He'd always thought he had time, that he could return to Earth and fall in love when his work on Atlantis was done. Then life proved that he didn't have time. In those moments before Colonel Sheppard revealed his position on the Hive, he had regretted his lonely existence.

Landing in the Jumper bay, Evan cleared his face of all emotion and blended back into his life aboard Atlantis. He would figure out his life eventually. Now that he'd been promoted and given the option of staying on Atlantis permanently, he planned to take the time to do just that.

~TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Just a shameless little plug here. But I have a new story in a new fandom set to post tomorrow, pending server issues. Check out my profile for a short summary on that one. As for this chapter, I'm issuing a fluff alert AND a coffee alert. Mitzi makes an appearance. For those of you unfamiliar with Mitzi, she was a feline OC in my New Year's stories that became rather popular. Check out my _Jennifer Keller's New Year's Resolution_ and _Evan Lorne's New Year's Decision_, as well as **theicemenace's** _Full Circle_ for more details on Mitzi. As always, hope you enjoy! ~lg

oOo

On their second date, Evan took Sara to dinner at a nice steakhouse known for casual dining and atmosphere. For their third date, they caught the Sunday matinee at the theater nearest her house. By then, she knew that he'd dominate her weekends if she allowed him. And she liked the idea that she had someone to distract her from work. She'd never enjoyed getting so little done over a Saturday than she had the day they went to the Aquarium of the Bay. They'd strolled through the underwater tunnels, talking about nothing in particular, and enjoying each other's company. When she returned home that evening, she eyed the rolls of film from the last Saturday she'd been able to do some photography work with something akin to reluctance.

Three weeks after their first date, on Friday, Evan called Sara to reschedule their dinner that evening due to unforeseen complications. He promised her the entire Saturday afternoon and a nice dinner in exchange, but he just couldn't get away from work that night. Knowing that he couldn't tell her about it, she had agreed and ended the call as she tried not to let her disappointment show.

"Something wrong?" Nathan Keith had found her.

"No." She met his brown eyes, happy that she'd never really entertained many notions about him. Nathan was a good man, but she liked the mystery surrounding Evan and his job. "My plans for the evening fell through."

"I see."

She held up a finger, already sensing the inevitable question. "No."

"I didn't say anything."

"But you were about to." She shook her head. "Something came up at work, and he had to cancel tonight. We're still seeing each other, so my answer to you is no."

Nathan went his way, and Sara let out a deep breath. Evan's cancellation stung more than she'd expected, and she resolved that she would get used to this. He was in the military. That meant some plans would get broken without much notice. It was all part of being a soldier's girl. Instead of pouting, she went home, fed Zoey, and disappeared into her dark room.

oOo

Evan hung up the phone and set it on the shelf in his locker. As soon as his name was drawn for this mission, he called Sara. Still, telling her that he had to cancel their date more than bothered him. He wasn't sure what they were to each other, and he'd planned to discuss that over dinner that night. Now, he had plans to track down another Wraith Dart.

After the destruction of the Wraith Super Hive, or ÜberHive as some called it, a number of Wraith Darts had landed all across the planet. Most were discovered during the first few months after Atlantis's return, but some Wraith managed to evade their scans. That day, another Wraith life sign had popped up on Atlantis's sensors, and Evan's team had been tasked to track it down.

"Everything alright, Sir?" Coughlin had seen him end the call. Behind him, Reed turned and watched their CO.

"Yeah." Evan shrugged. "Had plans for the evening that needed to be changed."

"With your sister?" Coughlin asked hopefully. Right after they'd returned home, Evan made the mistake of taking his team to meet his mother, sister, and two nephews. Coughlin immediately took a liking to Addison Lorne, much to her brother's consternation.

"Ah. . . ." Evan hedged, trying to figure out a good way out of this one. If his team knew about SaraLeigh, they'd poke and prod until they met her. He wasn't sure he wanted Reed, who liked to flirt, spending any time around Sara until the two of them figured out exactly what they had. "Not exactly."

Reed's eyebrows rose. "A new girl?"

Coughlin frowned. "What do you mean, 'new girl?' When has the Boss ever had a girl?" Then, he realized what he'd said. "I mean, since we've known him, when has he ever had a girl? Er, I mean, dated?"

Evan laughed as Coughlin continued to dig himself deeper into the hole. Clapping his friend on the shoulder, he headed for the Jumper bay. "C'mon. Let's track this Sucker down."

oOo

The next afternoon, after having slept way too late, SaraLeigh packed her camera and extra film into her truck and set out for the nearest coffee shop. Evan had called that morning, interrupting her first cup of coffee with his welcome voice. He planned to be at the beach all day, painting, and wanted to know if she'd join him there. Sara had hedged, saying she needed to get some housework done, while her heart pounded erratically. She agreed to meet him mid-afternoon with coffee and her camera. That way, they both could work on their respective art forms without needing to fill the time.

At the coffee shop, she ordered a French soda for herself and a large iced macchiato for Evan. He'd let that little nugget of information slip while they'd had dinner the previous weekend. Now, she wanted to make sure they had a little sweetness to add to their afternoon.

Rolling her eyes at herself, Sara parked her truck and carefully carried their drinks and her equipment to the man on the beach. He never glanced up, and she watched as he added more paint to a large canvas. He'd clearly been out here for a few hours, and he didn't seem to notice the tug of cold wind that came off of the water. A stained towel had been slung over his shoulder, and the wind ruffled his short hair as he dropped his brush into some cleaner.

"Hey." She interrupted as softly as possible.

Evan turned with a grin. "I was wondering how long you were going to stand there."

She flushed even as she realized that he would have heard her truck. "Sorry. I'm just not used to seeing you like this."

"Is this a problem?"

She stepped close, offered the macchiato to him, and stared into his eyes. "Not at all."

He nodded once. "Good to know."

Sara turned her attention to the painting. Evan had apparently been adding the finishing touches to the Golden Gate Bridge and some rocks that caught the weak rays of sunshine that broke through the thick clouds. She nodded. "This is really good."

"Thanks." He still hadn't moved away from her, which made her hands shake enough that she wondered if she'd even be able to take a decent photograph. "I'd like to see what you can do."

She looked at him again. "It's not that easy. First, I have to take the photos. Then develop them. With a digital camera, it's a little easier, but I'm partial to the old-fashioned dark room process."

"I like an old-fashioned girl."

Forcing herself to breathe, Sara stepped away from him and set her camera case next to the TV tray he'd set up to hold his extra paints. Evan grinned at her but returned to adding color to his canvas.

For the next thirty minutes, they worked in companionable silence. SaraLeigh resisted the temptation to sneak a few shots of Evan into the images she snapped and changed her vantage point each time. As she worked, the nerves faded into the easy camaraderie they'd shared since their first date. She didn't deny her attraction to him, however, and just his nearness was enough to make her heart pound. For now, though, he kept his distance.

Finally, he dropped his brush in cleaner and set aside his palette. "Hey, does that thing have a timer?"

She frowned at him. "Of course."

"Good." He grinned at her. "If it's alright, I wanted a picture of the two of us."

Sara's confusion faded, and she felt her face redden as he watched her. "I think I can handle that." She set up the tripod for the camera and instructed him on where to stand. Allowing thirty seconds to adjust themselves, she rushed around the camera and tried not to squeal when he put his arm around her and pulled her close. After several flashes to indicate several shots, she straightened and realized that he'd been watching her.

"Are we going to talk about this?" he asked as she took the camera off of the tripod.

She let out a calming breath and set her camera in its case. Returning to his side, she nodded. "We need to."

He took her by the shoulders. "Listen, I'm not looking for anything beyond what we have. We explore this and, if it leads anywhere else, great. If not, great. But I like you. A lot. And I don't want to lose something that might be really special because we didn't talk about it."

Something in his tone told her that she meant more to him than he'd actually said. "I like you a lot, too. And I'll be honest and say that I am kinda relieved that you want to talk about this. I've got this guy at work, and he keeps asking me out. It'll be nice to tell him my boyfriend wouldn't exactly approve." Then, she blinked. "If that's what you want, that is. I mean. . . ." She trailed off when he chuckled.

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Oh. Good." She smiled at him, unsure of what to say next.

"Sara, relax."

She blew out a quick breath, hoping he couldn't hear her heart. "Okay."

"Well, then," he said, "how about we go get that dinner I promised you? Then, sometime in the middle of the week, I can pick you up at work and leave no doubt in anyone's mind of who I am."

She grinned at him. "Really?"

"Only if you want me to." Evan shrugged, and Sara laughed. She packed up her camera and equipment as he packed away his paints. Agreeing to meet him at the restaurant of his choice, she climbed back into her truck and tried to readjust to her new reality. She had a boyfriend. Just thinking about Nathan Keith made her giggle. Wouldn't he have a fit when he heard that?

oOo

That evening, Evan landed the Jumper in its customary spot and ran a hand over his face. He'd forgotten sunscreen, and Sara took great pleasure in pointing it out. During dinner, they'd held hands and honestly discussed their relationship. Evan wanted a lot more with Sara, and he intended to figure out if he could have that. Of course, his job made things difficult, but he knew others who had successfully navigated that road. A few of the SG members on Atlantis were married and had stayed married through the long deployment to Pegasus. He wasn't sure how well he'd handle a long separation like that, however, and resolved to figure out if he could even consider it.

Evan found Coughlin and Reed around a table in the mess hall, laughing with Sheppard and Ronon about something that apparently happened while he'd been in San Francisco. Coughlin grinned, knowing that, while Sheppard and Lorne were off duty, he could get away with acting a little cheeky. "Hey, look who's back."

Reed turned. "Hey, Boss!"

Sheppard frowned. "You got a little sun, there, Lorne. What were you up to?"

Evan shook his head. "Not what you're thinking. I was painting the Golden Gate Bridge."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes slightly. "I was thinking about surfing when I said that. What did you think I was talking about?"

Coughlin saved Evan from having to answer that embarrassing question. "You have a thing for that Bridge, don't you, Sir?"

Evan shrugged. "It's a bit of home."

Ronon sat forward. "Wait. Did you say 'painting'?" He frowned. "As in canvas, palette, paint brushes?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." The Satedan stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

Sheppard blinked. "Your file says you once painted. I didn't realize you'd picked it back up."

"With views like we have here in Atlantis, it's kinda hard not to."

"I'll second that," Reed said. "So, all you did was paint?"

Evan regarded him blandly, refusing to be goaded into anything. "And I went to a very nice dinner."

"Alone?" Reed's question earned him a glare. "Hey, I'm only asking because Coughlin here managed to get himself a date."

Without warning, Evan's protective instincts kicked into overdrive. "You asked Addison out?"

Coughlin swallowed. "Just to dinner."

"That's _all_ you do," Evan replied as he held up a finger. "_If_ dinner goes well, we'll talk about anything else. And that's _after_ I talk to my sister and get her side of the story."

Sheppard's feet, which had been propped on an empty chair, hit the floor. "Wait. You asked out _Lorne's_ sister?"

Reed snickered. "Almost as dangerous as asking out Ronon's sister. Or yours, Sir," he added as he glanced at Sheppard. "The man is brave. I'll give him that."

Sheppard frowned at Coughlin. "I thought you had a girlfriend," he said, "named Mitzi."

Evan choked on his water as Coughlin turned ten different shades of red. He regarded his team member and thought, _Pink, red, magenta, violet. . . ._ His artistic mind enjoyed ascribing names to the shades of embarrassment.

Coughlin glared at everyone around the table. "For the last time, Mitzi wasn't my girlfriend."

"No, she was just a big cat that yowled at the gate for hours after you left her planet." Reed seemed to be enjoying this a little too much.

"Yeah?" Coughlin turned to him. "At least I'm not curling up at night with a P90."

Sheppard rounded on Reed. "Is there anything I need to know?"

Evan laughed and settled back to enjoy the friendly teasing that Sheppard and Ronon dished out. He even got in a few shots at Reed. As he retired to his quarters, however, he thought back to the afternoon. Sara had appeared wearing curve-hugging jeans, a denim jacket that ended at her hips, and a big red scarf that draped over her white t-shirt. She'd looked amazing. In those few seconds before they spoke, he had fallen a little bit in love with her.

~TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Midway through the next week, Evan's phone rang while he sat at his desk on Atlantis. He'd escaped to his office just to get away from newcomers who couldn't figure out where they needed to be or what they should or should not be doing. With Colonel Sheppard and his team off world, the responsibility fell to him, and he looked forward to getting back to normal operations once repairs to the city were complete. Now, with the phone ringing, he glared at the number. His glare melted away, however, when he recognized the number. "Hey," he said, trying to infuse something other than irritation into his voice.

"Hey, yourself. I need a favor." Sara sounded frustrated.

"Name it." He sat forward, ready to move at a moments' notice.

"My truck broke down this morning." She let out something that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a growl. "I barely made it to work. I had to have someone jump start it just to get it to the mechanic at lunch, and I need a ride home."

"I'll be there." He glanced at his watch. Just after 1300 hours. "What time?"

"Barring a new case, five."

"See you then." Hanging up the phone, Evan grinned. Oh the joys of having a girlfriend. Rather than being irritated that she'd called him, he liked the feeling of being needed on a personal level. Knowing that he needed to take a Jumper from the city, he went to find Woolsey. Atlantis's commanding officer wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he allowed it based on the nature of the request. Evan left him in his office muttering about needing to figure out a ferrying system that didn't require constant Jumper use.

That evening just before five, Evan walked into the crime lab and looked around. Out of habit, he noted all the exits and windows, how many people stood around, the number of cops bearing sidearms, and any other tactical information. His back-up piece, hidden away in his boot, suddenly felt a little heavy even though he knew he had the qualifications to conceal it. He hadn't worn his standard M9 sidearm so as not to alarm Sara.

Strolling over to the receptionist, Evan smiled politely. "I'm here to meet SaraLeigh Johnson."

"I'll let her know you're here. Can I get a name?"

Evan gave his name to the gum-snapping woman and strolled over to a corner. He knew he wasn't in any danger, but his combat instincts wouldn't allow him to relax._ There's a big guy by the door, but he's not paying attention. He'll be slow. The two over there are too distracted with their case. . .or whatever. The guy next to the counter is my first choice. He's wiry, but he looks like he packs a punch when he fights._

Then, he shook his head._ They're cops, not Wraith. Relax!_

"You're here to meet SaraLeigh?" The question, even in a friendly tone, couldn't have been more idiotic to Evan's mind. He turned and saw that the guy next to the counter had headed his way. He wore a rumpled button-down shirt, loosened tie, and prominently-displayed sidearm.

"Ah. . .yeah." He held up his keys. "She called earlier. Said she had car trouble and asked for a ride."

"So you're the new guy." The man, slender with spiky, light brown hair, held out his hand. "Detective Nathan Keith."

Evan gave his hand a firm shake. "Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne," he said, still holding the grip and maintaining eye contact. He wasn't much for confrontation of this type, but this guy clearly needed to see that he wouldn't back down.

Keith finally let go of his hand. "Good to meet you."

"Likewise." Evan wished it were true.

"Which branch of the military?" Keith asked.

"Air Force." Over the man's shoulder, Evan saw Sara appear wearing a black coat that fell to her knees and a large green scarf around her neck. She looked tired, and a wariness crept into her eyes.

Keith also noticed her arrival. "Hey, I know you need to get going, but a bunch of us guys get together every Friday for basketball. You're more than welcome to join us. Bring any of your military buddies, if you like."

Evan recognized the challenge and nodded once. "I'll be there."

Keith left him alone then, and Sara walked over to him. "I'm sorry about that."

"He's making sure you're taken care of." Evan shrugged. "You ready?"

"More than." Her tone told him that it had been a rough day. "On top of the truck breaking down, I got called to a rough crime today. A woman in the hospital after her boyfriend beat her to a pulp."

"Ouch." He took her arm and steered her to his car. "Would you like to go home or join me for dinner?"

"How about we do take-out?" She smiled at him. "We can sit on my couch and watch a movie or something. Let Zoey curl up in your lap and send you back to base covered in black, white, and red cat hair."

Evan grinned at her. "Sounds great. Just point me in the right direction."

They spent the evening watching one of the original Star Trek movies and talking about nothing in particular. Zoey curled up in Evan's lap, as Sara had predicted, endearing herself to both adults. And, when he left, Evan dropped a quick kiss on Sara's lips. She seemed surprised, but they weren't ready for anything more intense. They would be ready soon if she insisted on being so adorable even when she was totally exhausted.

Satisfied with his day, Evan returned to base and set about developing a ferrying schedule to allow for personnel to return to the mainland every morning and evening.

oOo

"What do you have?" The question came from the man in a business suit as he settled at the bus stop. Thomas Shomake enjoyed how his clothing made people underestimate him.

"Not much. The personnel are very close-mouthed about everything," said the other man, this one muscle-bound and looking like he just came from the gym.

"We need to get on that base. Our clients paid us well, and I don't have to tell you what happens when someone disappoints them."

"Yes, Sir, I'm aware of that." He shook away the image of a woman with a bullet through her head. "But there's no indication of _where_ the base is located, much less how to access it."

"What have you observed?" Shomake was content to simply ask questions.

"Several personnel come and go on a regular basis. Most notably Lt. Colonel Lorne and Captain Coughlin. But I think both of them have a girl in the city that they see. Other than that, I've seen them meeting up with men and women whose faces we have yet to identify."

"What about him?" He pulled out a picture of a huge man with dreadlocked hair.

"He's not in _any_ database I've searched."

"Who are Lorne and Coughlin meeting? Anything we can use there?"

"Like I said, I think they're dating women here. So far, I've gotten word from a contact that Lorne was seen at the crime lab this week." Muscles grinned. He clearly liked the idea of following the women.

"That sounds like our ticket in right now." Shomake tried not to roll his eyes. "Follow him. See who he's meeting. If necessary, follow that person, looking for any advantage we can get."

The bus arrived, and Shomake left his employee waiting for his quarry to appear.

oOo

Friday evening, SaraLeigh wearily shed her coat and slipped out of her tennis shoes. It had been a mundane day at work, but she'd finally given in to Evan's insistence on renting a car. Riding the bus had been an easy way to get to work, but it also bothered her. She needed that time right after work to decompress from the day. Today, she'd driven home in a Toyota Matrix that had a great chance of selling her on the idea of purchasing a new vehicle.

Her truck had finally given up the ghost. Sara dropped into the couch and petted Zoey as the cat jumped into her lap. The mechanic had called the day after the breakdown and announced that the head gasket was blown. It would take more to fix the truck than it was worth. Sara agreed to send it to a junk yard while she began the long process of finding another vehicle. Evan hadn't been able to get away until Sunday, and he'd promised to keep her company while she shopped.

The doorbell rang, and SaraLeigh pushed to her feet. If it were a salesman or sport's team, she'd send them packing. She really didn't need anything, and she didn't want to see anyone. That opinion changed when she opened the door. "Jennifer!"

"Hey!" Jennifer McKay grinned. "Sorry to drop in suddenly."

"No problem." SaraLeigh let her friend into her apartment and hugged her tightly. Jennifer looked incredibly happy. And tanned. "You look great!"

"Thanks."

"So. . .where did Rodney take you?"

Jennifer flushed. "A seaside villa on the Mediterranean."

Sara let out a whistle. "Nice!"

"Yes, it was." Jennifer smirked, her expression turning a little too personal.

"Okay, that's more than enough information!"

Jennifer laughed and strolled into the living area. "I see you're still collecting photos."

Sara nodded. "Yeah." She looked around at all the piles on her coffee table. "Feel like helping me sort them?"

"Not a chance." Jennifer frowned. "I deal with enough paperwork on the job. I don't want to sort or organize or file anything when I'm not working!" She slipped out of her cream-colored mohair coat. "So, I came by to see if you wanted to go out for the evening. We could catch up like we weren't able to do before the wedding."

"I'd love to, but I just barely got home."

"Delivery, then."

"Sounds good to me. What do you want?" After some discussion, Sara went into the kitchen to place their order. She gave her address and added some cat food to Zoey's bowl.

"Hey!" Jennifer's surprise made her voice seem louder. "This is an interesting picture." She appeared with a framed snapshot of Evan and Sara in front of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Sara flushed suddenly, her mind flashing back to high school when Jennifer found out she'd been asked out to prom. "Yeah, I just got the frame for that."

"So. . .?"

"We're dating." Sara poured each of them a glass of tea from the fridge.

Jennifer squealed like a teenaged girl. "It's about time!"

"I'm sorry?"

"Not you. I meant Evan." Jennifer rolled her eyes. "There were plenty of women on base, but that man is a monk."

"He's the hottest monk I've ever met, then." Sara's dry statement made Jennifer choke on her tea. "Seriously, he asked for my number at your wedding, and he followed up as soon as he got back to town."

"So, how long have you been dating?"

"You mean going out or actually boyfriend-girlfriend dating?"

"Both."

"Let's see. . .we've been dating since the Saturday after your wedding—when he got back." Sara smiled. "We decided to make something of the friendship last weekend, which is when I took the picture."

Jennifer dropped onto Sara's couch, and the two women spent the next few hours talking about men, work, and their lives in general. Sara noticed that Jennifer carefully avoided giving hints about the location of her work, and she didn't push for answers. She wondered what Evan did every time she saw him, but she'd promised not to ask. If this relationship continued like she hoped it would, then she would talk with him about his work. She wasn't above fantasizing, though, and she cheerfully enjoyed the image of Evan holding a gun as he arrested someone. Shaking her head, she let her friend out for the evening and closed the door.

oOo

Shoes squeaked on the gym floor as Coughlin passed the basketball to Evan. Evan quickly glanced around, dribbled it past Nathan Keith, and did a quick layup to win the game. As he landed, he jogged toward Coughlin, who high-fived him. The other two members of their team, Detectives Marsh and Solano, clapped him on the shoulder. "You're good, Lorne. Where'd you learn to play like that?"

"Here and there." Evan accepted a handshake from Keith, and congratulations from the rest of the opposing team.

"Well, you're welcome to join us every week if you like."

"Ah. . .I think my girlfriend might have a problem with that." Evan grinned at the man as he wiped his face with the towel he'd brought from Atlantis. He'd been surprised at the number of cops who showed up for this informal game. They'd welcomed Lorne and Coughlin with cautious glances until Keith announced that he'd invited them.

"Our loss," Marsh replied. "You wouldn't happen to be dating anyone I know, would you?"

Before Evan could reply, Keith joined them. "We're splitting the two of you up next time," he said as he pointed between Evan and Coughlin. "You read each other's minds way too easily."

Coughlin shrugged. "Serve with a man for enough years, and you start thinking like him."

As they headed for the exit, Evan thought he'd escaped answering Marsh's question about his girl. Instead, the detective fell into step with him. "You never answered my question."

"SaraLeigh Johnson."

Marsh whistled. "Keith's had a thing for her for a long time."

"I know." Evan pulled his keys from his pocket and waved. "Take it easy."

Marsh waved, and Evan let out a deep breath as he started his car. He'd known the questions would arise during the evening, and he appreciated that they hadn't distracted from the game. He'd enjoyed spending time with these men. They understood that he couldn't really talk about his work. Of course, his rank played a big role in earning their respect, but he didn't try to force it.

Now, he had another difficult task ahead of him. He'd talked to his sister that week, and Addison admitted a few things. Evan drove to the garage that housed the cloaked Jumper, parked the car in the parking garage, and entered the elevator with Coughlin. Once the doors closed and they'd been riding in the elevator for a few moments, he cleared his throat. "I talked to my sister this week."

Coughlin stiffened. "Yeah."

Evan nodded. "Some things will change."

"Like what, Sir?"

"You can't be on my team any longer, but that's not a problem. With your promotion, Sheppard's considering giving you your own team."

Coughlin frowned, clearly trying to connect the dots between Addison and his promotion. "Sir?"

Evan grinned as the elevator doors opened. "She likes sterling roses, Brian." While Coughlin stared in shock, Evan left the elevator and walked to where Jennifer waited to be taken back to Atlantis. He could have threatened the guy within an inch of his life if he so much as hurt Addison's feelings, but he knew Brian Coughlin better than that. He trusted Coughlin with his life. The man would take care of his sister. Given her past experience with men, namely that her ex had abandoned her with two small boys, Evan figured he'd help a good thing rather than hinder it. That said, he knew Coughlin understood the stakes should he ever decide to up and leave her alone.

Content with his evening, Evan flew back to Atlantis already looking forward to the next afternoon's date with Sara.

~TBC


	6. Chapter 6

One more hour. Sara sat at her desk, staring at the computer screen and let out a deep breath. She'd thought about her job on more than one occasion and, on days like this one, almost decided to change career fields. She often consoled herself with the knowledge that her photographs helped others, won court cases, and put criminals behind bars. She'd taken steps to make it more fulfilling by getting involved in the actual crime scene processing. Today, none of that mattered.

She was so tired of blood and guts, shell casings, fingerprints, and any number of gruesome things that went with a crime scene. After an hour developing photos from last night's mugging-turned-murder, she wanted to go home and forget that any of this happened. Bury her head in the sand and her newest science fiction novel. Heck, she'd take the cheesy Wormhole X-treme reruns over her life right now. This definitely didn't fit what she'd imagined when she chose to become a photographer. In her teen years, she'd imagined waltzing off to exotic locales to photograph beautiful people for National Geographic, not stepping over dead bodies as she sought to document everything.

"Johnson, crime scene." The order effectively killed her plans for the evening. Sara grabbed her equipment and headed out the door. She listened to the police scanner as she drove, her heart sinking. A young boy going home from school had been hit by a car. The dispatcher was being incredibly careful about mentioning the boy's true condition, and Sara knew it would be bad.

She wasn't expecting grotesque. The crime scene was already blocked off, but looki-loos crowded the yellow tape, some of them even trying to take photos on their cell phones. A few teens, looking pale and ready to puke, stood on the curb as paramedics and police tried to talk to them. One girl, in particular, heaved into a pail held by Nathan Keith.

He looked up and spotted her. Handing the pail to a sympathetic paramedic, he walked toward the crime scene tape and lifted it so Sara could duck underneath. "It's a bad one."

She nodded. Ever since Evan had showed up at work, Nathan had stopped asking her out. Now, however, she pushed Evan's smile from her mind while trying to retain the rock-solid feel he always projected. "What happened?"

"Twelve-year-old Michael Winston was riding his bike home from school." Nathan shook his head. "He'd dismounted and was walking across the street in the cross walk when a black SUV, either an Excursion or a Highlander depending on the witness, barreled through. He never had a chance."

Sara cringed. "Is he. . . ?"

"Spread. Everywhere." Even Nathan, a veteran cop, looked slightly queasy.

Sara let out a deep breath and lifted her camera from its case. Hit and run accidents often resulted in the driver of the offending car getting away. She sincerely hoped that this driver was found. She didn't want to look at a life cut short by carelessness. Steeling herself to stare at less-than-beautiful things through the lens of her camera, she set to work.

Hours later, she dragged into her apartment and dropped her purse and coat in a heap by the door. Her scarf followed, a short distance away. Though she'd not worked with the actual evidence, Sara felt dirty. Sick. Zoey came over to nudge her legs for attention, but Sara ignored the cat. She'd curl up with Zoey later, when the horror had faded and she'd cried for that poor boy. For now, she'd settle for a shower.

With the hot water pounding on her back, Sara washed her hair and scrubbed her skin. She watched the soap drain out of the tub and sighed. Some days, she hated her job. When her skin wrinkled, she climbed out of the shower and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. Her eye caught a photo on her nightstand, and she involuntarily smiled. She and Evan had gone to dinner the night after Jennifer's visit. He'd brought a disposable camera and snapped the photo. In this one, he laughed as he held bunny ears over her head. If she remembered correctly—and she did—he'd kissed her right after snapping the photo.

Needing something more than a quiet apartment, Sara picked up the phone and dialed from memory.

oOo

Fresh from a shower, Lorne walked into the mess hall and grabbed a tray. He'd wanted to come straight to dinner after the mission briefing with Woolsey, but he'd managed to find the one mud pit on the trip and fall into it. He'd left messy footprints through the gate, all the way to the infirmary, and down the corridor to his room. Jennifer had taken one look at him, put on two sets of gloves, and gave him the once over while Woolsey accepted his oral report. He'd write one after a hot meal and a cup of coffee.

Lorne shook his head. He'd been planning a nice quiet evening with a paperwork backlog. Not the most glamorous job in Atlantis, but it beat mopping up his footprints any day of the week. He felt sorry for the guy tasked to do that and resolved to find the janitor and extend a personal thank you.

In the mess, he found Coughlin, Sheppard, Ronon, McKay, and Teyla around a table. Filling his tray, he headed toward them, finally giving up on his not-so-exciting plans to do paperwork. Coughlin had transferred to Major Anne Teldy's team, putting Dusty Mehra on Lorne's team. Evan had been trying to save Mehra from the mud pit when his foot slipped. Fortunately, she managed to escape getting slimed.

Plopping his tray down, Evan had taken his first bite when his phone rang. The idea of carrying a cell phone, even one that had coverage anywhere in the world, still seemed foreign. Not thinking, he pressed the answer button. "Lorne."

"Evan?" Sara's voice shook, and he stilled. He'd never heard her react this way, and it told him something extremely bad had just happened.

He set down his fork, his instant reaction drawing attention. "Sara, what happened?"

"Nothing." She drew in a ragged breath. "Well, something. But I. . .Can you come over? I mean, if you can get away. I don't want to intrude, but I just need someone here." Her words ended with a wobble, driving the worry home.

He stood, ignoring the plate of food that no longer appealed. "I'll be there within the hour."

"Okay." She sniffled a bit and hung up the phone, apparently taking him at his word.

Lorne turned to see Sheppard already sitting straight up in his chair. "Sir?"

"Take a Jumper." Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "I'll clear it with Woolsey so long as you let me know what's happening."

"Yes, Sir." He pushed away from the table and picked up his tray.

"Hey, Lorne?" Sheppard stopped him. He turned around to see his CO grinning. "I wanna meet her."

"Ah. . .you already have." Evan shrugged. "She did the photography at Rodney and Jennifer's wedding."

Ignoring all other comments, Evan dumped his tray and headed up to the Jumper bay. Part of his ferrying system included a rented parking lot with several vehicles for Atlantis personnel to use. Parking spaces had been cordoned off for a cloaked Jumper, and most individuals commuted at the moment. Only those like himself and the core staff remained on Atlantis permanently. Now, his hunger faded as he flew toward the remote lot. What could be so wrong that Sara called him nearly in tears? They hadn't been dating all that long, but he'd realized early on that she held power over him. Ever since that day at the Golden Gate Bridge, he'd fallen a little in love with her every time he'd seen her. This just proved his point.

Nearly an hour after her call, he knocked on her door. She answered wearing black sweatpants and a blue t-shirt that said, "To err is human. To arrr is pirate." Evan grinned at the shirt and promptly frowned at her face. Sara didn't wear makeup, and she always looked positively stunning. Tonight, she was pale and appeared ready to fall over. He stepped into the house and pulled her into his arms. "Hey, what happened?"

Rather than answering him, she slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. He got really scared when he realized she'd started crying.

oOo

Sara couldn't help it. The minute Evan's arms settled around her, the tears she'd held back since the crime scene started flowing. She hadn't planned to fall apart on him, just use his shoulder as a pillow while they watched a movie. Rather than trying to speak, Evan tightened his hold on her and kicked her door closed so that Zoey wouldn't run out and get lost. Sara let herself cry for the boy, for his parents, and for the horror of her job. Finally, she stepped back. "I'm sorry," she hiccuped as she scrubbed her tears from her cheeks.

"No problem." Evan allowed her to move back, but he kept his hands on her upper arms. "What happened?"

"My job." She stepped away from him and wrapped her arms around her middle while trying to surreptitiously wipe her nose. "I had another crime scene today. A kid, this time."

He winced, and she loved him for it. "Ouch."

"Yeah." She shrugged. "I just didn't want to be alone."

"Hey, I'm not upset." He slipped off his leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the door. "But I have to admit to being hungry. I'd just finished work for the day when you called."

Sara blinked. "I'm sorry. . ."

"Don't apologize again." He held a finger up. "That's what I'm here for. Just tell me what you want, and I'll buy take-out."

She considered her still-queasy stomach. "Better make it chicken noodle soup or something like that. I'm not sure I can handle anything heavy or greasy."

He tugged the phone book from its place next to her land line and flipped it open to the delivery section. After scanning the selections, he placed an order for clam chowder for himself and roasted chicken noodle soup with fresh sourdough bread for her. While he spoke with the person on the other side of the phone, Zoey jumped onto the counter and nudged his hand. He ruffled the cat's fur and managed to make her purr by the time he hung up the phone.

Sara smiled at him. "She likes you."

Evan grinned at the cat. "I like her. Though I'm not typically a cat person. That's more Coughlin's alley."

"Coughlin." She took a few moments to place the name. "A former member of your team who is now dating your sister?"

"That's the one."

"Cat lover?"

"Ah. . .not really." He grinned again, and she saw the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "We were in the field, and this rather large cat decided she liked him. When we left the area, she stayed behind and cried for hours."

Sara snickered, her emotions swinging to the opposite end of the spectrum. "Poor guy."

"Yeah. We had to go back twice, and the cat pulled the same routine every time." He shook his head. "The powers that be finally sent another team instead of us."

Silence settled awkwardly between them, and Sara busied herself with straightening a few things in the living room. She felt bad about calling him and hoped he'd forgive her for freaking out when she should be able to handle her job. Sighing deeply, she turned. "I'm thinking about going back to school."

Evan blinked at the announcement. "The day was that bad?"

"Worse. Even Nathan looked green." She shook her head. "I just don't know how many more crime scenes I have in me. I know my work makes a difference in court. But at what cost to me? Can I handle the nightmares that will inevitably come after each one?"

"Do you dream of your crime scenes often?"

"Just the really bad ones." She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling chilled in spite of the warmth of her home. "Today's was one of the worst. A kid on his way home from school was hit by a car. Maybe I'm so jaded it takes a really bad scene to get the nightmares started, but I just don't know that I can handle them."

He watched her for a second before moving to the coat rack and finding bulky sweater. Holding it up for her to slip into, he wrapped his arms around her as he closed the sweater in the front. "You'll make it. If you need to talk, you call. Any time of night."

She tried to contain the shiver that ran down her spine as he spoke directly into her ear, but she failed. Part of her wanted to curl up right there and go to sleep. It would be really hard for the nightmares to intrude if Evan whispered into her ear every time she stirred. Then, reality took over, and she forced herself to step away from his warmth. The delivery boy knocked on the door right then, rescuing her from having to explain herself.

As the evening progressed, Sara watched Evan settle into her sofa, laugh with her at the silliness of Wormhole X-treme, and pet Zoey. He was a good man, one her mother would approve of, and one who actually accepted her for who she was. She rarely felt the need to conform to some invisible standard when he was around.

When she'd accepted that first dinner invitation, she never dreamed she'd fall in love.

~TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Just a few housekeeping things. The contest mentioned in this chapter is completely fictional. If one like this exists, it was not my intent to swipe it. Also, this chapter contains what I think is a rather good moment, so I'm issuing a coffee/tea/beverage alert just to be on the safe side. Would hate for anyone to douse their computers! :D Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

The next week brought some changes to Sara's life. The day after he visited her home, Evan called her to find out how she handled returning to work. She blushed the entire time and smiled for another hour. Having someone think enough of her to call like that meant a lot, and she wasn't sure how to explain it to Evan without it sounding over the top. He probably called her out of some sense of obligation, anyway. Not that she minded. She'd known since their afternoon on the beach that she could easily fall for him. In fact, she had already fallen for him, just hadn't had the courage to admit it.

Another change the week brought was her anticipation of the weekend. On previous weeks, she'd waited for the inevitable phone call saying Evan had to cancel their plans because he got called out of state. It only happened once more, and she coped well. This week, however, he'd called to tell her that his mother planned a family dinner to celebrate his recent promotion and had asked him to invite his friends from work. Would she like to go with him? She immediately said yes before thinking about it. When she hung up the phone, Sara suddenly realized that he'd asked her to meet his mom and sister. Did that mean something about what he felt for her?

Finally, she also realized a way to change the course of her career. Sara knew she couldn't just quit work at the crime lab. She really did make a difference with her crime scene photos. But she did check into area photography contests. One, in particular, intrigued her with its desire to showcase various cities. Only one photo from every city would be chosen for a coffee table book, and the photographer would win a decent check and further opportunities for this company. Evan encouraged her to pursue it, so she set out to capture her best shots of San Francisco. She spent hours at the Golden Gate Bridge, thinking of the day when Evan established their relationship. She visited the iconic Painted Ladies, first during the day and then at dusk, capturing a striking photo with the city lights behind it. She strolled the Fisherman's Wharf and Pier 39, hoping to catch more than a few odd looks from other tourists. And she rode the trolleys, trying to gain a unique perspective on San Francisco's most famous form of public transportation. By the end of the week, she admitted that she could use a break from looking through a camera lens.

On Saturday afternoon, Sara stood in front of her mirror, agonizing over her choice of attire. She'd found the dark purple blouse at a small shop during her trolley ride, and she'd been unable to pass it up. Today seemed like the perfect day for it since Evan said his mother wanted to grill steaks. The weather hadn't completely warmed to springtime temperatures, yet, but Sara needed to feel like it was spring. She was tired of long sleeves and thick sweaters. This blouse defied long sleeves and thick fabrics. Sleeveless with sheer ruffles that covered her shoulders, it accented her waistline with a belt that matched. She paired it with hip-hugging jeans and slip-on flats.

Evan arrived before she had the chance to change her mind, and his appreciative grin made her face heat. He stepped inside. "Nice."

"Thanks." Sara grabbed her knee-length overcoat and a large black scarf. She hadn't taken much time with her hair, and it hung around her face and over her shoulders. "You're sure I don't need to bring anything?"

"Mom would be offended if you did." He took her coat and helped her into it. "Though you can help in the kitchen if you like."

She smiled at the nearness of his voice and wondered what she'd do if he ever truly kissed her. He'd dropped little pecks on her lips before, but he'd never really taken the physical aspect of their relationship too far. Now, she debated the wisdom of making a move on him as he led her to his car. Deciding that _now_ would not be a good time, she settled into her seat and allowed him to drive. The silence got to her, however, and she glanced at him. "So, who all is coming to this thing?"

"Me, you, Addison, Coughlin, Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, McKay, Jennifer. . .and I think that's it." He grinned at her. "Oh! And Reed."

"Basically everyone you work with?"

"Yeah, but Addison and Coughlin are dating." He started the car after she'd buckled in. "And he's even more nervous about meeting Mom than you are."

"I don't know. I'm pretty nervous."

Evan gave her a sharp glance and took her hand in his. "Hey, you don't have anything to worry about. Mom's not gonna bite or anything. Neither are any of the guys I work with. And you already know Jennifer."

"I know. It's just. . . ." She shrugged. ". . . .meeting the family and all that."

"Is there a reason I wouldn't want my family to meet you?" He glanced at her. "You're a pretty special lady, and I'd like my mom and sister to get to know you."

"No reason." Sara bit her lip to keep from saying more. He wasn't ready to make any firm commitment, and she didn't want that sort of thing today. She just wished she hadn't become so nervous all of a sudden.

When Evan pulled the car to a stop, Sara stared in surprise. "Your mom lives in a Painted Lady?"

"Has for years." He frowned. "Why?"

"I was here just this week." She pointed. "Standing over there, taking pictures of these houses. Well, these and the ones on Alamo Square park. I was thinking about using one of them for the contest, but I'm not sure."

He waited to answer her until after he'd parked and opened her car door. "And how do you think Mom will feel if I give her a copy of the book for Christmas and reveal that _you_ took the winning photo?"

"You don't know that I'm going to win." She laid a hand on his chest. "Don't get your hopes up too high. It might wind up on the floor with a thousand others like it."

"I don't think so." He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to her lips, and Sara thought he might kiss her right there. Instead, he took her hand and pulled her to the door.

Margaret Lorne opened the door with a grin. "I was wondering if you two were going to stand there all day."

Evan glanced at Sara before grinning at his mom. "Thought about it, but changed our minds. Mom, meet SaraLeigh Johnson. Sara, this is my mom, Margaret Lorne."

Sara held out her hand, hoping it didn't shake too badly. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

Margaret shook her hand and pulled her into the house. "Call me Margie. It's nice to finally meet you. Evan's mentioned you a few times, but I didn't think he had the guts to bring you home. Either that, or he wanted to keep you all to himself."

Evan slipped an arm around Sara's waist. "Imagine that, Mom."

"Well, you have to share sometime, Son. Might as well start now." Margie took Sara's coat and hung it in a coat closet. "Now, come in here, and I'll introduce you to Evan's sister and nephews."

Immediately relaxing in Margie's kitchen, Sara smiled when Evan's sister appeared. Her hair hung in messy waves around her face, but her eyes sparkled with the same dry wit that Evan's did. She disengaged her hand from a small boy's and stuck it out. "Hi. I'm Addison."

"Sara."

"Nice to meet you." Addison returned to helping her son wipe his nose. "Sorry. We had a little bit of a cold last week, and it hasn't gone away, yet."

"No problem." Sara bit her lip to keep from saying that runny noses didn't bother her. Not with the crime scenes she visited.

Evan and Addison exchanged greetings, and the four adults settled into friendly conversation. Sara relaxed and found herself wondering why she'd stressed about this meeting. Evan had always been easy to talk to, and his mother had clearly taught him the skill. A little less refined than Sara had pictured her, Margie Lorne had a way of stating things without sugar-coating them. Her seemingly brash ways disappeared, however, when one of her grandsons misbehaved. She took the boy aside, spoke softly to him, and sent him on his way with a gentle reminder to be nice to his brother.

Evan appeared at Sara's side. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She grinned. "Your mom's not what I pictured."

"I know." He glanced at Margie, who had started digging in the fridge. "I take after my dad. Or, so she says."

The doorbell rang, saving Sara from having to answer, and Addison rushed to get it before Margie could respond. Sara glanced at Evan, who grinned mischievously. "That must be Coughlin."

"Ah. . .yeah." Evan nodded. "And I'm not sure I'm ready to see this."

Brian Coughlin appeared a short time later, holding Addison's hand and carrying flowers for Margie. Addison's two sons rushed him, and he knelt down to greet them. Then, he and Evan escorted the boys to the back yard while the three ladies prepared the potato salad and banana pudding. Sara laughed with Addison and snuck glances out Margie's kitchen window as she sliced bananas and layered vanilla wafers into the pudding. Evan tossed a football with his nephews, laughing and chasing the boys like he didn't have a care in the world. His smile captivated her, and she enjoyed seeing this side of him.

When Brian and the boys came inside for drinks, Sara slipped onto the back patio. Margie's grass hadn't started turning green, but the back patio sported lawn furniture, a fire pit, and large grill. Evan started the grill and set the temperature before turning to Sara. She had stepped to the edge of the patio, right where the sun hit the pavement, and crossed her arms. She should have worn a warmer blouse, but she enjoyed the look in Evan's eyes every time he looked at her. Right now, however, his glance couldn't take the residual sadness she felt at seeing the patio so perfectly arranged.

His hands settled on her shoulders, sending shards of warmth down her arms. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She leaned back into him. "I'm just remembering a few things right now. My mom never had many family dinners, but she loved to sit on the patio in the evenings and read."

"I understand."

"I know." She turned so that she faced him. "So, what's the plan for the afternoon?"

"Grill steaks, eat, talk, maybe play some games."

"So long as I'm on your team for Pictionary."

Evan laughed. "Deal." He sobered quickly. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Sara shrugged. "My mom died a year ago. I just wasn't expecting the memories to hit as hard as they suddenly did."

Rather than speaking, he pulled her into his arms. Sara let her arms snake around his waist and tucked her head under his chin. His steady heartbeat calmed her emotions, and she realized she didn't want him to let go. Not for a while, anyway. Still, after a long moment, she forced herself to raise her head. Evan didn't release her, however, and she kept her arms around his waist. "We should probably get back inside."

He shrugged, his eyes lighting with a strange glint. "Only if you want to." His gaze dropped to her lips again, and he didn't seem intent on pulling back this time.

"Mmm." She smiled. "I'm not sure I want to."

"Oh, good." He didn't give her time to respond but leaned in and kissed her.

Oh, sweet heaven, the man could kiss! Sara leaned into him just to keep herself upright as he quickly robbed her of the ability to breathe. By the time he pulled back, she'd forgotten about sad memories, chilly air, nervousness, or anything that required higher brain function. Trying to think of something to say, she let out a quick breath when he said, "Now _that_ is nice."

"I agree." She raised an eyebrow. "Though I'm curious as to what took you so long."

"Don't spoil the moment." He let his hands rest on her hips, keeping her close without smothering her. "We'll have plenty of time to talk about that later."

"So, what do you want to talk about now?"

"This." He kissed her again.

Sara smiled against his lips and allowed him to take the lead. Just as he moved to really deepen the kiss, however, the back door of the house opened, and Margie walked out. She cleared her throat, effectively breaking into their blissful moment. "I sent you outside to start the grill, Son, not heat up something else."

"Thanks, Mom." Evan's voice rumbled under Sara's ear as she buried her face in his chest. Still, she couldn't bring herself to be too upset with the woman. It was Margie's house, after all.

For her part, Margie just grinned. "No charge." She moved to the grill to check the heat and nodded toward the back door. "More of your friends are here."

Evan turned toward the house, his arm still on Sara's waist, but a huge bear of a man appeared in the door before they moved more than two steps. Sara stared as the guy greeted Evan with only his last name. For his part, Evan seemed perfectly at ease with the dreadlocked giant and the slender man who had hair even more unruly than hers. She clearly remembered them from Jennifer's wedding.

Finally, Evan turned. "Sara, I'd like you to meet my CO, Colonel John Sheppard. And Ronon Dex."

Ronon gave her wave from the hip, but Sheppard grinned. "We met at the wedding," he said. "But it's still a pleasure."

"Likewise." Sara breathed easier when Evan returned to her side.

"Where's Teyla and the McKays?" Evan glanced into the house.

Ronon jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "Talking with your sister."

The afternoon continued, and Sara eventually settled into the easy camaraderie around the table. Margie teased everyone equally, and Teyla watched her son, Torren, play with Evan's nephews. Jennifer and Rodney chatted amicably, and Sara admitted that their presence eased her tension. Still, she had several brief moments when homesickness overwhelmed her. Evan seemed to sense those and usually gave her hand a squeeze to remind her that he was there.

After the meal, John, Ronon, Brian, and Evan took the kids outside. Rodney, who claimed seasonal allergies, settled into Margie's couch to watch the news while the women congregated in the kitchen. The dishes were finished with an abundance of laughter, and Sara found herself thoroughly at ease. She liked Evan's friends, and his mom and sister also shared his dry humor.

After an hour, though, Rodney called Jennifer from the kitchen. Evan bounded in with his nephews, all of them looking for something to drink, while John and Ronon joined the McKays. Evan dropped a quick kiss on Sara's lips, commenting about how his nephews wore him out.

"Oh, my God!" Jennifer's exclamation brought everyone from the kitchen to the living room. Sara followed and blinked at the TV, where a reporter spoke about an accident that had occurred a week ago. The family of a twelve-year-old boy had sued the owner of a large SUV, as well as the maker of different bicycle safety gear. After warning that the images might not be suitable for young children, the screen changed to a photo of crime scene tape, cops, a broken bicycle, and blood.

The floor fell out from below Sara's feet. She struggled to keep her dinner down, and her hand inevitably tightened on Evan's. He turned, alarmed. "Sara? What is it?"

Jennifer whirled. Seeing her friend turning white, she rushed over. "Sara? Sara, I need you to sit down." She pushed Sara into a chair and shoved her head between her knees. "Take deep breaths."

The drama on the TV screen now forgotten, everyone watched as Sara fell apart. She sucked in deep breaths, her face heating in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said when Jennifer allowed her to sit up straight.

Evan, who had knelt in front of her, took her hand. "What happened?"

She pointed at the TV. "Those crime scene photos?"

"Yeah." He frowned.

She swallowed, knowing her admission might change everything. "They're mine!"

~TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Evan sat with Sara on his mother's patio, furious that the evening had turned out so bad. Sara had finally relaxed and really started to enjoy being around his family and friends when those crime scene photos flashed across the TV screen. He'd already seen the fallout from that crime scene. He'd held her as she cried over the boy killed in the hit and run. He didn't want to watch her go through _this_. This meant an investigation. This meant cops looking into every aspect of her life. This mean Nathan Keith asking questions about Evan's job, questions Evan couldn't answer. Of course, with his security clearance, Keith wouldn't be able to do much of anything, anyway.

For now, however, he focused solely on Sara. She'd recovered nicely and escaped to the back yard. Evan had waved Jennifer back into her chair and followed Sara, lighting a fire in the fire pit when he saw her sitting on the sofa-like lawn furniture. Then, he settled next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head against him. That was ten minutes ago.

"I'm sorry," she said in a soft voice, finally breaking the silence.

"Hey, it's not your fault."

"Yes, it is." She shrugged, her shoulder moving against him. "At least, it is right now. I don't know how the press got ahold of those photos, but it was my responsibility to protect them. To keep them secure. Now, my photos will be thrown out as inadmissible in court because they've been compromised. And that could lose the case because I can't go back and get any more. And that's not even thinking about an exhaustive review of my previous cases."

He nodded and simply rubbed her arm. She was cold, but getting her coat meant going back inside. For now, he settled with trying to warm her arm with his hand. "So, now what?"

"Now, I go to the police station, if they aren't already looking for me." She straightened. "Nathan's running the investigation on this one, and he'll want to interrogate me."

"Hey, _no one_ is interrogating you, no matter who they are." He couldn't keep the protective instincts from his voice. He was falling in love with this woman, and he'd do everything in his power to protect her. "They can _interview_ you. But interrogations are out of the question."

She glanced over at him, her face partially shadowed. "You can't keep me from this, Evan. I _have_ to do this."

He let out an explosive sigh, realizing she was right. "I know."

"We'll find out what happened."

"And what about your career?" He scowled. "Right now, you're the prime suspect."

"And I have none of the money to prove that I leaked those photos." Sara put a hand on his arm, her fingers cold in spite of the light starting to shine from her eyes. "I'll be fine, Evan. You can even take me to the police station, if you'd like."

He held her gaze for a few more moments before relenting with a nod. "Okay." He held up a finger. "But no one is going to arrest you."

She smiled. "I don't expect they will. They have the right to question me and hold me for forty-eight hours before they charge me with anything. But I'm one of theirs. This will be turned over to Internal Affairs. And those guys _can_ arrest me. It goes back to probable cause."

"Which they don't have." He shook his head. "No, if they want to hold you, let me know. I know an _excellent _attorney, and he'll help you out."

Sara smiled. "Ev, I'm glad you're so protective, but you've got to let me do this. I'm beyond scared right now, but it's all part of the process." She pushed to her feet. "But you can be there with me when it's all over."

Evan stood with her. "You got it." They made their way back inside and said quick goodbyes. Evan recognized the warning in Sheppard's eye and gave his CO a tiny nod. No one would be learning anything about Atlantis or the SGC tonight. He touched Addison's shoulder, waved away Coughlin's offer to accompany them, and kissed his mother's cheek. Sara had already gathered her coat and scarf and looked incredibly pale in the dim light of the entry way. She turned when Evan joined her and came nose-to-chest with Ronon.

The big guy watched with amusement in his eyes as she slowly tilted her head back to look him in the face. He stood with his arms loosely at his side. "If you need anything. . . ."

She actually smiled. "I'll let you know."

Ronon shifted his focus. "You know, Lorne, if you want, I can come with you."

"Ah. . . ." For just a moment, Evan considered the offer. He wanted to see the look on Keith's face as Sara waltzed into the police station with the big Satedan body guard. "Not tonight, Ronon. But I'll keep that in mind."

Ronon nodded and stepped aside, allowing them to exit the house. Evan escorted Sara to his car and tucked her into the front seat, watching as she shored up her shaken emotions. A hard mask settled over her face, and he cringed. She'd prepared for a fight, and he could do nothing to help her. Not legally, anyway. He drove in silence, letting her prepare for the coming battle. If they tried to cuff her and take her away. . . . He refused to think about that but used his heel to double-check that he'd packed his back-up piece in his ankle-holster. He didn't know what he'd do with it, but _no one_ was cuffing Sara. Period.

Even as he made the promise to himself, he knew he couldn't stop it if it happened. Evan barely restrained himself from pounding on the steering wheel. Right now, he wasn't dealing with the IOA, as irritating and anal as they could be. He needed to allow Sara to go through the process and trust that her work would clear her.

At the police station, Sara approached the receptionist's desk. Nathan Keith stood there, looking as haggard as Sara did. He watched the two approach him and shook his head. "We sent a squad car to your home."

"Ah. . .yeah. She was with me." Evan put an arm around Sara's waist. "She insisted on coming in."

Keith eyed him. "I'm glad, though I can't say I'm happy about it." He turned to Sara. "IA is already here, and they're chomping at the bit to get you into an interrogation."

Sara glanced at Evan and twisted her fingers together. "No time like the present, I guess." She gave Evan a quick smile. "I'll be fine."

Evan couldn't let it go that easily. Ignoring Keith's watchful gaze, he touched his forehead to hers in the way he'd learned from Teyla. "You call me if you need anything. I'll be waiting right here when you're done."

She nodded and allowed Keith to lead her away. Evan watched, his heart clenching. She looked so alone in spite of Keith's supportive hand on her elbow. Running a hand over the lower half of his face, he settled in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs in the waiting area. He really should call Woolsey and report this incident. After all, his presence at the police station would have already been noted. But he couldn't make any calls until he heard from Sara.

As he waited, his mind returned to the last time he'd seen Woolsey as an attorney. A newly-formed Coalition of Planets had captured Sheppard's team and forced them to endure a tribunal. Woolsey won that argument, though Evan doubted bribery would work in this case.

Nathan Keith reappeared in the door where he'd taken Sara and joined Evan. He sat down next to the lieutenant colonel with a sigh. "For the record, I don't think she's guilty."

Evan nodded. "Nice to know," he said tersely.

The two men waited in silence.

oOo

In the interrogation room, Sara fiddled with the end of her scarf, propping her hands on the table and staring at the fringe while an IA detective, Mark Stanton, perused her file. She knew he stalled to make her nervous, and the tactic worked. She eyed the coffee he'd provided for her and realized her stomach couldn't handle it. The last thing she needed right now was to vomit all over the guy who could send her to jail for blinking wrong.

Stanton had a reputation in the police department of being hard-nosed but fair. Most IA officers weren't liked by other detectives, but Stanton had earned the trust of a few of them. Sara knew he would be tough on her, but she determined to handle the pressure. With Evan waiting for her, she could get through this. Summoning the courage, she stilled her hands, straightened in her chair, and met his eyes.

Stanton grinned. "Good job, Miss Johnson."

Sara blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I was hoping you'd look me in the eye." His grin faded. "Tell me about your evening."

"You mean about how I discovered my crime scene photos had been leaked to the press."

"Discovered?"

"Yes." She shook her head. "I know you hear this all the time, but I _didn't_ do this. I don't know who did, but I'm not the person you're looking for."

"So, you're telling me that you had no idea your rather gruesome photos had been given to a local TV station to be plastered across the evening news?"

"No, Sir."

He blinked, seemingly surprised by her respect. "I see. So, why don't you tell me how you. . ._discovered_. . .that the leak had happened."

"Um. . . ." Sara let out a calming breath, trying to imagine that Evan sat next to her, holding her hand. _Yeah, fat chance of that happening._ "I was at a dinner party."

"Did you have any alcohol to drink?"

"What?" She glared. "No!"

"Continue." Stanton made a note on the yellow legal pad he kept propped on his knee just so she couldn't see it.

"As I said, I was at my boyfriend's mom's house, having dinner and celebrating his recent promotion."

"And your boyfriend is. . .?"

It was a fair question. "Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne, United States Air Force."

"And what does the lieutenant colonel do?"

She hesitated. "I don't know."

Stanton's head rose slowly. "Say again."

"I said, I don't know." Sara shrugged. "His job is classified."

"Is that what he told you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Look, I know it's hardwired into your DNA to question everything I say, but I'm not that way. I believe him, and I have good reason."

"So give it to me."

She hesitated again. He was trying to trap her into revealing more than she knew. "He works with a friend of mine, someone I've known and trusted for many years."

"And this friend is. . .?"

"Not related in any way, shape, or form to your investigation."

"Look, Miss Johnson, I don't know if you've paid attention to everything or not." He leaned forward, tucking the legal pad under the table and pinning her in place with a glare. "But we have a major security leak. Photos that gruesome should _never _have made it to the press. The parents are up in arms, as is the brass. The least you could do is answer my questions."

"Not at the expense of my privacy."

"You are under investigation, Miss Johnson." He narrowed his eyes. "I'll investigate your _sex life_ if I have to."

Sara drew in a shuddered breath at that. "My friends have nothing to do with this."

"And you do?"

"That's not what I said." But her composure had been shattered, and she knew it.

Stanton sat back and produced a brown folder she knew to be her personnel file. "How long have you been with the crime lab, Miss Johnson?"

"You have my file right there." She shrugged, trying to regain the upper hand in this interrogation. She'd made a big mistake in allowing him to rattle her nerves. "You tell me."

He looked up suddenly. "I would appreciate an answer to my questions."

"I understand that," Sara replied, "but you're asking questions to which you already know the answer. What does my time with the crime lab have to do with anything? I will tell you that I have _never_ had this situation arise before. Not one of my cases has ever been leaked to the press."

"I'm well aware of your record, Miss Johnson." He narrowed his eyes. "And I'll be the one to determine exactly how many of your cases are legit."

"Then why ask me the questions?" She ignored the jab at her integrity. She knew better, and she told herself that was all that mattered. Naïve, yes, but effective in steeling her nerves.

He pressed his lips together, disapproval radiating from his face. "So, how did you realize your photos had been given to the press?"

"Like I already told you, I was at dinner with my boyfriend and some of his colleagues." She struggled to maintain eye contact even though she knew it made her look weak. "We watched the news, and there they were."

"Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that."

The interview went on, and Sara had started to droop by the time Stanton called it to an end. The day had been longer than she'd ever imagined. A quick glance at her watch told her that midnight had passed a long time ago. Of course, if Stanton had accepted her answers the first time she gave them, she could have left and still had enough time to catch a movie with Evan. Now, she stood and wearily stretched her back muscles while hoping that Evan wouldn't be too angry. As it was, her hands shook, and she sincerely wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and cry.

She found Evan sitting next to Nathan, an empty coffee cup cradled in his hand. His face looked as haggard as she felt, but he showed nothing save relief as she approached. "How did it go?" he asked as he stood.

She shrugged. "I'm suspended without pay until they figure out what happened." She smiled when he took her in his arms, hugging her in spite of their audience. "Stanton still thinks I might have been involved, but he's not pressing charges. Yet. I can't leave the city, either." She pulled back slightly to look him in the eye. "So, I guess I'll have plenty of time to work on that contest."

Evan nodded and let her go, rubbing her shoulders as he did so.

Nathan waited until she turned to face him. "Sara, we're working on this. We'll figure it out."

"I know." She leaned into Evan's side as he slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Nathan smiled at the two of them. "I'll keep you in the loop."

"Okay." She let Evan lead her back outside and relaxed into the car with a deep sigh. "I'm glad that's over."

He eyed her. "I've already talked to Sheppard, and he gave me the day off tomorrow. You ready to go home, yet?"

"No." She smiled at him. "But I need to. Zoey's probably wondering what happened to me."

Evan didn't comment but drove her home while holding her hand. Once there, he took her coat before she could just drop it in a heap. Zoey meowed and wound herself through Sara's legs. She picked up the cat, who seemed to realize that she needed extra attention. Then, once Zoey wanted down, she flopped onto the couch and buried her face in her hands.

Evan's weight settled into the cushions next to her, and he pulled her into his arms. Sara hadn't known that one person could mean so much to her. She'd been alone for so long, and decompressing after a tense day often involved a hot shower, a science fiction movie, and a tub of ice cream. This time, it involved Evan holding her while his heartbeat soothed away the headache. She didn't cry as she thought she might, but she did let out more than a few deep breaths as she tried to control her stomach.

She was under investigation for compromising an open investigation. Sara sat up straight and tried to smile. "I'm sorry."

Evan returned the smile, although his eyes stayed serious. "Stop apologizing for stuff beyond your control. I'm glad I'm here and not off. . . TDY somewhere."

She smiled when she realized he'd nearly spilled the beans about his work. "So am I."

"So, movie?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Though I don't know what. I'm a little. . . ."

He stood and walked to her movie cabinet. "I'll pick."

Sara let him plug in the first Batman movie and settled back into his arms when he sat back down. They stayed quiet through the movie, neither one willing to break the silence. Evan's hands rubbed her arm occasionally, and she knew he wanted to soothe her nerves. And it worked. Halfway through the movie, she drifted to sleep.

oOo

Evan knew the moment that Sara fell asleep. He glanced at his watch. Two-thirty in the morning. _I'm glad I have the day off tomorrow,_ he thought as he shifted her body into a semi-prone position. Sara liked a lot of pillows on her couch, and she wound up propped in an awkward way. He would have left her there with a note, but he decided to move her into her bedroom. She'd already kicked off her shoes, and he carefully turned her so that she rolled into his arms.

"Mmmm. . . ." She mumbled as she snuggled into the curve of his neck. Evan stopped halfway down the hall and blinked. How did a woman make his heart do _that_ just by mumbling in her sleep?

Evan had never seen Sara's bedroom. She always kept the door closed. Now, he smiled at Zoey's position at the foot of the queen-sized bed. The dark red cover, piles of pillows, and elegant drapes showed Sara's inner decorator. The woman definitely had an eye for color and style.

Feeling his arms about to give out in spite of his constant weight-lifting, he settled her into the soft pillows, reaching for the golden throw she'd folded over the foot of the bed. As he covered her with it, he brushed a hand down her cheek, nudging her cinnamon-colored hair from her face.

She stirred when he withdrew, grabbing his wrist and barely opening her eyes. "Stay," she said, her voice warmed by sleep.

Evan considered her face for a fraction of a second before nodding. She took his nod as agreement and slipped back to sleep. Knowing she needed him close by, he slipped out of his boots and carefully lowered himself into the bed next to her. He touched her arm to let her know that he was still there, and Sara grabbed his hand, wrapping his arm around her waist and pinning him into place.

Evan fell asleep with the hair of the woman he loved tickling his face.

~TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Sara woke the next morning to Zoey working her claws into her stomach and the soft pitter-patter of rain on the window. She absently rubbed her cat's head, wondering why she wasn't meowing for breakfast. Sara blinked at the ceiling, not liking the gritty feel of her eyes and glanced at the clock. Ten-forty-five in the morning. The storm made it seem earlier, but she knew the clock was right. She'd slept well, and her face heated with memory. Had Evan really carried her to bed and stayed the night? She grinned at the memory but knew she hadn't given Stanton any reason to investigate further into her life. She and Evan had done nothing but sleep, and his warmth next to her had allowed her to stay asleep without any of the residual dreams she'd secretly feared.

He answered her unspoken question by pushing her bedroom door open. Zoey jumped down at the intrusion and stalked out of the room, most likely to go see what food might be left in her bowl. Sara watched as Evan, looking a little rumpled and absolutely adorable with his hair standing on end, carried a tray over to the bed. She pushed herself up. "Breakfast in bed?"

"You bet." He grinned. "Least I could do."

Ignoring her morning breath, he leaned in and kissed her. By the time he pulled back, Sara had curled her fingers into the front of his shirt. She flushed and let him go, enjoying the way he hesitated as he did so. "Thanks for staying." She accepted the plate he offered, eyeing the eggs, bacon, and cinnamon rolls he'd made. "And for breakfast."

He pulled his own plate from the tray and set their orange juice on the bedside table. "I'm just glad you had breakfast stuff. Cereal and milk isn't all that romantic."

"So you were going for romantic?"

"Is it working?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" He shook his head. "I must be losing my touch."

Sara laughed, although the memory of the previous evening played through her mind. She remembered the reactions at the party and let out a deep breath. "Evan, I'm sorry about last night."

"Why do you continue to apologize for stuff out of your control?" He sounded a bit irritated as he set aside his plate. Bracing his elbows on his knees, he met her eyes. "You're not to blame for this. They've put you on administrative leave rather than arresting you, and you have free reign of the city. I don't know this Stanton guy, but Keith assures me he'll get to the bottom of things."

She nodded and ate a few bites. "I just feel bad that we left your mom's house the way we did."

"She'll understand." He pulled his plate back to him and took a bite. "Now, I know you're gonna be thinking about all of this, but I've got the day. What would you like to do?"

Sara briefly considered keeping them isolated and then realized where they'd end up if they didn't get out in public. Her face heated, and she knew Evan saw it. But she wasn't ready for that kind of commitment just yet. She wanted it, and she wanted it to be with Evan. After they'd known each other a bit longer. And preferably after this whole IA investigation settled down. She rather liked the idea that Stanton couldn't investigate her sex life as he'd threatened to do. "Um. . . ." She shrugged. "I have no idea."

He laughed with her, and it broke the tension from a few minutes ago. In the end, he ran to the store while she took a shower, returning with a few toiletries and a change of clothes. Sara suspected he'd given her the privacy she needed, and she appreciated him for it. Their relationship had taken a sudden, intimate turn the night before, and she needed time to adjust.

That afternoon, Sara stood in her doorway and smiled. "Thanks for being here, today."

Evan returned the grin. "Never a problem." He tugged her into his arms and kissed her. Once he pulled back, he rested his forehead on hers. "We're gonna make it through this."

"I know." She let out a deep breath. "It's just. . . ."

"I know." He touched her face once and left her alone, turning to wave and smile before disappearing. Sara closed the door behind him and stared at Zoey. Now that Evan had left, what was she going to do to distract herself?

oOo

A knock broke the silence, and Sara pushed herself off the couch. She'd been watching a movie and got bored with it. The silence of the apartment suited her mood, and she frowned at the clock. When had she fallen asleep? Never one for napping, the last two nights left her needing more sleep. She almost called Evan just to hear his voice, but she stopped with her finger hovering over the SEND button. Some things needed to be done on her own. She was a big girl, and she could handle a few days off. Hadn't she wanted to find a new career, anyway?

Letting out a deep breath, Sara smoothed her rumpled clothes and finger-combed her hair before answering the door. She blinked. "Jennifer?"

"Hey." Jennifer McKay held up a pizza box. "Supreme with stuffed crust?"

Sara laughed and let her friend into the house. She'd already received calls from both Margie and Addison, who had offered to come over and keep her company. She'd turned them both down, not wanting to allow them to see her true condition. Jennifer, however, just went out and bought the one pizza they'd both loved in high school. As she pulled paper plates from the cabinet, she grinned. "This brings back some memories."

"Yeah." Jennifer shook her head. "Remember that one time we called. . . what was his name?"

"Alan?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah, we called and hung up the moment he answered the phone." Sara grinned. "I thought I'd die when he showed up in my class the next day."

Jennifer giggled as she put two slices of pizza on her plate. "I'll never forget your face." She shook her head. "We had pizza like this that night, didn't we?"

"Yep." Sara flopped into one end of her couch while Jennifer took the other. "We had pizza like this _every_ time you spent the night."

"I remember." Jennifer's face sobered. "Sara, how are you really doing?"

Sara let out a deep breath before answering. "Not good. I'm not sleeping, and I have this irrational feeling that I'm being watched. I can't shake it. I almost called Evan late last night but stopped. I'm a big girl, and I should be able to handle this. I mean, look at me. One thing goes wrong, and I fall apart."

"Yeah, but this is a pretty big thing to go wrong." Jennifer set aside her half-eaten slice of pizza. "We're not those high school kids anymore. Stuff like this can really ruin a life."

"And how many police inquiries have you endured?"

"You might be surprised."

"You?" Sara stared at her friend. "I find that hard to believe."

"You don't do the work that I do without a few inquiries here or there." Jennifer shrugged. "I know what they're like."

Sara fiddled with her pizza for a moment before deciding to be brutally honest. "I'm scared. I have no idea what to expect, and that's even scarier than being grilled about my personal life. Did you know that Stanton wanted details on what you and Evan do for a living? He wanted me to tell him everything about my life. He even said he'd investigate my sex life if he had to." She shook her head. "I didn't tell Evan about that."

"Probably a good idea."

"I'm afraid I'm gonna lose my job. That I'm gonna go to jail. That Evan's gonna have to visit me from the other side of a glass window." Now that she'd started venting the emotions she'd kept bottled up, Sara couldn't stop the tears that started. Or the words. "I've _never_ felt this for any man before. Even that one right after college. If I screw this up, I'm afraid. . . ."

Jennifer reached out and touched her arm. "Evan's not gonna leave you. It's not his style."

Sara nodded and tried to gain control over her tears. "Did you know he stayed the night the other night? Even made breakfast in bed."

Jennifer's eyes widened. "Are we talking about the same guy? I mean, I watched you guys at the party, and he was different. But romantic? Wow."

Sara smiled, though her tears still threatened. "Oh, you have no idea."

The two women continued talking, but Sara couldn't let her doubts go that easily. When Evan called that evening, she told him about Jennifer's visit. She missed him but tried to avoid laying any guilt on his shoulders. He'd been in the military before she came along, and he couldn't just leave his post because she wanted him to. She would just have to learn to deal with the separation or give up her hopes for the future. And, with Evan involved, dealing with the separation was the easier option.

oOo

The investigation took a week. Sara spent hours with her camera, photographing various sites around San Francisco. She drove the Golden Gate Bridge, looking for inspiration. And, once, she walked the bridge in the middle of a thunderstorm. She managed to come away with a slight cold and an intriguing image of the bridge in the rain and fog. Evan hadn't been happy with her and promptly showed up at her house with some of Margie's chicken soup and several science fiction movies. He found her love for sci fi amusing, but he willingly joined her. Zoey also kept her company by pawing at her film canisters and, once, swiping a digital photo as she printed it off of the computer. Sara had laughed and wished she could capture the cat trying to drag the photo around the house.

A knock on the door interrupted her Friday afternoon. Evan had called yesterday to say he'd be out of touch for a few days. He'd been sent TDY somewhere overseas and wouldn't be able to call her. She appreciated his concern and promised him a welcome-home kiss when he returned. He laughed, but something in his voice told her that he'd hold her to the promise. Now, with plans to meet up with Evan in two days to paint and photo a different angle of the Golden Gate Bridge, Sara opened her door.

"Nathan." She blinked. "Detective Marsh?"

Nathan forced himself past her and glanced around the living room. "Sara, I can't explain right now, but I need you to come with me."

Panic sent her heart into overtime. "What happened? Am I being arrested?" She blinked, suddenly afraid of what would happen when Evan came home. He hadn't threatened anyone since she'd known him, but she knew that he could be rather scary when he wanted to be. She'd seen a portion of that coldness when he delivered her to the police department a week ago. Now, if he returned to see her suddenly behind bars. . . .Her stomach churned, and she nearly vomited on Nathan's shoes.

"Not arrested." Nathan took her elbow to escort her out the door. On her other side, Marsh spoke into a radio, telling someone they were on their way down. Nathan glanced at her. "We just need to get you somewhere safe."

"Safe? Why?" She pulled her elbow from Nathan's hand and glared. "What is going on?"

"Marsh will explain everything when he can." Nathan took her by her shoulders. "You need to trust me right now. You're not under arrest, but there's been a development that requires you to be placed into protective custody."

"_What?_" she squeaked. "But I. . . ."

"You need to _move_!"

"I _can't_!" She looked around, frantic. "What about my life? My friends? My cat?"

Nathan frowned. "Cat?"

"Yeah, that's one of the things you don't know about me." Sara shook her head. "I can't just leave. You don't know what Evan will do if I disappear."

"I'll deal with Evan and make sure he knows you're safe."

She doubted it would be that easy, but she didn't say a word. Instead, she walked into the kitchen and, with shaking hands, poured another two servings of cat food into Zoey's bowl. She filled the water bowl and set it on the counter. Somehow, she knew she'd have to leave. Nathan wouldn't be this pale and insistent if it wasn't bad. "Are you hiding me from Stanton?"

"Why would I. . . .Oh." He grinned ever so slightly. "No, Stanton knows you're innocent. He figured that out today."

"Then, _why_?"

"I can't take the time to explain it right now." He steered her toward the back of her apartment. "Go pack a bag, but make it fast."

Sara stood in her room, unsure of what to do next. Her stomach still churned, and she shivered from the stern tone of Nathan's voice. What had happened? And why wouldn't he explain it to her? She stared at her cell phone, wishing she could just call Evan. He'd be over here as quickly as possible, in Nathan's face and insisting on an explanation.

Just thinking of Evan steadied Sara's nerves a bit. She grabbed a bag and threw a few outfits into it, not caring what went in there. Then, she grabbed the picture of the two of them off the nightstand and tossed it on top of her clothes. She would have taken her cell phone, but Nathan stopped her when he entered her room. "Picture is fine. Phone isn't."

"He's TDY, Nathan."

"And I'll deal with him."

"You don't get it, do you?" She stared up into his face. "He wanted to make sure you wouldn't arrest me the other night. I _still_ don't know what he does, but it's not your normal military work. When I disappear, he'll tear the city apart looking for me."

"You know this how?" Nathan zipped her suitcase closed and carried it out the door, leaving her with no choice but to follow him.

"I just do," she answered weakly. At the door, she hesitated yet again. He reached out and grabbed her elbow, tugging her out of the apartment and locking the door behind her. She thought she would really be sick this time when he pushed her toward the front door of her building.

"Sara, get in the car." Nathan's voice dropped when she hesitated, and he pushed her toward Marsh. The two men neatly maneuvered her into a dark sedan with tinted windows. Sara wondered if the windows were bullet-proof then shook her head. She didn't need protective custody. She was a photographer, not a cop.

Marsh climbed in after her, and Nathan patted the top of the car to tell the driver that everyone was loaded. Sara spotted Solano behind the wheel, and her heart started pounding again. Her hands shook even worse. Where were they taking her? Why? What was going on?

~TBC


	10. Chapter 10

The recent time change appealed to Evan. He grinned as he set up his easel in yet another place he thought perfect enough to capture the Golden Gate Bridge. He hadn't really considered painting yet another image of the bridge, having completed two of them. He was, however, trying to subtly urge SaraLeigh on in her quest to find the perfect photo of the bridge. He believed she had what it took to succeed as a photographer in her own right, not as a crime scene analyst and forensic photographer.

Today's location looked between two rocky crags of the California coast, and the afternoon sun would highlight the red suspension bridge to perfection. Sara should be able to get a great shot with the day's bright blue sky, the calm San Francisco Bay, and the orangey-gold rocks framing the image. As he thought about the location, Evan pulled out a charcoal pencil and began to outline his own painting. This one would be a small piece, he realized, and he hoped to infuse a bit more sunshine into it than the one he'd done during their first real date. That day, his focus had been on the woman that appeared with coffee and a big red scarf rather than the dreary painting he'd completed.

His thoughts circling back to Sara, Evan let out a deep breath as he thought about the recent change in their relationship. It had been a week since the night he stayed at her place. They'd not crossed any lines beyond sharing the same bed, and they had both been fully clothed. At the time, he realized that Sara needed his presence there with her. The next morning, however, when he'd awakened to see her hair splayed over the pillows, one hand tucked under her chin as she slept, he suddenly realized that he could lose control. In fact, he carefully eased himself from bed and indulged in making breakfast just to get a little space. Sara's sleepy eyes, fully green in the dim light from the window, nearly undid his careful intentions to keep things proper.

Their intimacy had never been a question in his mind. Once he realized that he was falling for her, Evan knew he and Sara would eventually cross those lines. But now was not the right time. She'd been shaken by the whole interrogation by IA, not to mention the idea that she could still go to jail. He wasn't out for a last-hurrah good time. He wanted something real, something that would last until his final breath. He wanted to know that, should either of them learn how to ascend, they'd be able to enjoy eternity together. A momentary slip where he allowed her to use his body to find comfort in intimacy would damage the special bond they shared.

Evan blinked at the painting and realized what he'd done. During his thoughts about Sara, he'd painted her face into the rocks. While he'd been using the correct colors, he'd added the strands of her hair, spread out over the pillows. Just as his mind recalled her being the morning after that whole situation at the police department. Finally admitting that he was more than a little distracted, he painted over the image, finished the rocks, and cleaned his brushes. Taking his sketch-pad out, he flipped to a fresh page and settled on one of the rocks to capture his memory of that morning. Sara's form took shape quickly under his hands, and he used colored pencils to heighten the color and add to the bohemic feel her bedroom inspired.

A car door slammed nearby, and Evan looked up. Another couple, this one expecting, walked in another direction, and he went back to his drawing. If their relationship continued, he knew he'd transfer this drawing to canvas. But not now. He added some deeper red to the bedspread, which only highlighted the gold of her throw blanket, and frowned. Something wasn't right. When he and Sara spoke before his recent off-world mission, they'd agreed to meet at this spot this afternoon. Just inside city limits, it kept Sara on Stanton's good side while getting her out of her apartment. Jennifer had told him that Sara needed distractions, and he'd already looked forward to getting her out of that apartment.

Now, he glanced at his watch. While they had no set afternoon schedule, Sara had agreed to meet him two hours ago. He pulled out his phone and dialed the first number in his directory. After several rings, the voicemail picked up. _"Hi. This is SaraLeigh. I'm not here, so leave a message."_

Evan frowned. Had something happened that she was unable to answer the phone? With concern rolling in the pit of his stomach, he resolved to wait for another ten minutes. In that time, he gathered his paint supplies and carried the canvas to his car. It took ten minutes to lug all his gear back into the sedan and get it arranged so that nothing would be destroyed. He tugged his phone from his jacket pocket again. _"Hi. This is SaraLeigh. I'm not here, so leave a message."_

This time, Evan waited for the beep. "Hey, it's me. I thought we were meeting today. Call me back." He nearly added, "Love you" to the end of his message but chose not to. Those two words needed to be said in person the first time. Instead of pacing, he walked to the edge of the parking lot and allowed the breeze coming in off the Bay to soothe his nerves. After another ten minutes, he dialed again. _"Hi. This is SaraLeigh. I'm not here, so leave a message."_

Evan usually left panicking to McKay. The physicist had a knack for panicking at all the wrong times and still coming out on top. This was different, he told himself as he started his car. McKay panicked over everything. Evan got concerned and did something about it. But that barely-controlled bubble nestled in his chest and wouldn't leave him alone. If Sara wasn't returning his calls, then something major had happened. Now, he slid into his car and quietly drove to her apartment.

When it came to security, Sara wasn't the most careful person. He'd already located her spare key on the ledge above her door and knew he'd need to have a talk with her about it. For now, he gratefully used it to let himself inside. A loud meow greeted him, and he nearly tripped over Zoey. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?" He picked up the cat, who fought with him to be let down. She walked toward the kitchen, meowing the entire way, and Evan realized the problem.

Sara would never have left her cat without food and water. He let out a calming breath, telling his heart to slow down, and dialed another number from memory. _"Sheppard."_

"Sir, I've got a problem."

"_Lorne? What's up?"_

"Sara's gone."

"_Say again."_ But Evan heard the solid tone in his CO's voice.

"I'm at her apartment, but she's not here." He looked around. "Nothing seems out of place, but she left her cat without food or water, something Sara would never have done. And she's not answering her phone."

Sheppard stayed silent for only a few seconds. _"Hang tight. We're on our way."_

Hanging up the phone, Evan carefully went through the rest of the house. He noticed the rumpled bed and one missing suitcase. Why would Sara just up and disappear? She wouldn't have packed a suitcase to go to jail, either. She'd have been handcuffed and escorted to a squad car.

The image of Sara in handcuffs, being led away like a common criminal, caused him to clench his fists. He really should call Nathan Keith right about now. But the idea of Stanton, the IA detective, looking over his shoulder stopped him. Something wasn't right, here, and Evan resolved to figure out what it was.

oOo

Colonel John Sheppard knew what it meant to love someone. He'd shared that special bond with Nancy before their marriage dissolved into chaos and regret. So he understood the slightly panicked expression on Lorne's face when he and his team finally arrived at Sara's apartment. The man answered the door with a calico cat in his arms and a slight growl in his voice.

"Lorne."

"Sir." He stepped back to let them into the apartment. "Sara and I were supposed to meet up this afternoon. She's participating in a photography contest, and I thought I had the perfect spot. She never showed."

Sheppard bit back a sarcastic comment about how sweet Lorne had been to think of his girl that way. "So you came here?"

"Actually, Sir, I called first. When she didn't answer, I came over." Lorne set the cat on the back of the couch and put his hands on his hips. "I found Zoey without food or water, something Sara never would have done."

Teyla, who had been browsing the various photographs on Sara's tables, turned with a confused expression. "Zoey?"

"The cat." Lorne ran a hand over his face. "I've done enough investigation to know that some clothes are missing, along with a suitcase. But I haven't called anyone at the police department, yet."

Sheppard nodded at the information, and his team spread out. McKay took the computer, as usual, and Ronon just looked over the entire place. Teyla stayed with Lorne, who seemed more than a little upset. Sheppard buried a grin until he slipped into the bathroom. The man had it bad.

Ronon and Sheppard returned to the living room, where Lorne had finally settled on the couch to pet the cat while McKay griped about the minimal security on Sara's computer. He'd just finished telling Lorne that he could get Sara set up with a state-of-the-art system for what it would cost to buy a basic computer when he grinned. "Hello. What's this?"

"What?" Lorne jumped to his feet, leaving Zoey to look to Teyla for attention. The Athosian held her hand out, and the calico easily made a new friend.

McKay's eyes skimmed the computer code on the screen. "Someone hacked her computer."

Sheppard clamped a hand on Lorne's shoulder to keep the man from coming unglued. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" McKay frowned at him. "I barely got here."

Sheppard grinned slightly. "You're. . . .you. You should be able to figure this out."

"Of course I'll figure this out." McKay waved a hand, his wedding ring glinting in the sunlight and still seeming somehow wrong to Sheppard. "Just. . . .give me a moment."

The familiar sensation of waiting for McKay to pull a miracle out of his hat settled over Sheppard's shoulders, and he turned toward the kitchen. Lorne followed him, and Ronon joined them. Sheppard glanced between the two men. "Toothbrush, hairbrush, and toiletries are gone."

Ronon nodded. "I didn't see any signs of a struggle."

Lorne shook his head. "Something's still not right." He met Sheppard's eyes, and Sheppard saw what he'd suspected: the reason for Lorne's out-of-character behavior. His second-in-command had fallen in love.

oOo

"Has the problem been resolved?" The civilized question hid a wealth of animosity.

"Yes." The muscle-bound man grinned. "Permanently."

"Good." The suit pulled out his cell phone and checked the message that had just set it to vibrating. "And the other?"

"Lorne's been out of the country for the last three days."

"Do we know how to get on this base?"

"No." Muscles shifted in his seat. "He's incredibly close-mouthed about the whole thing."

"And what about his woman?"

"She's missing." Muscles knew better than to turn around and look at the man. But he couldn't help but imagine that his life was about to end. "She should be easy to find. Our man in the department tells me she's been put into protective custody. Our computer guys should be able to find her in their system."

"Good." The suit stood. "Use whatever resources you need. Inform me when you have her."

Muscles nearly did a double-take. "I thought we wanted on that base."

"We do." The suit chuckled. "But things have changed. Just find her." He walked away, leaving Muscles to wonder exactly what had happened.

oOo

"I found it!" McKay's triumphant announcement broke into Evan's worry. He'd been working on keeping the calm facade he kept up at all times, and it had challenged him more than anything he'd ever done. Of course, he'd never felt this way about a single woman before. It was as if Sara somehow held the remote control on his emotions. One push of a button, and he switched channels from calm, cool, and collected to frantic and worried.

Sheppard turned to McKay, who stood and pointed. "And. . .?"

"It's a photo."

Evan frowned. "Yeah? She's got a lot of those on her computers."

"But not this one." McKay motioned them over, where a picture showed about half of a model in a skimpy bikini while focusing on the window. The image through the window had been blurred by the glass, but Evan saw what concerned McKay. A man, his profile fully revealed, had just fired a bullet into the head of a woman in a business suit. McKay watched the expressions on the faces around them and saw the "Aha!" moments.

Sheppard held up a hand. "You're telling me that someone planted this photo on Sara's computer?"

"Yep." McKay turned back to the screen. "I've copied it over to a flash drive, and, if I can take her computer with me, I should be able to trace the hack. In fact, I think this is what happened with those crime scene photos. I found no evidence of crime scene photos on this computer, and this is the only photo Sara has that contains an actual human being. Well, she's got photos with people in them, but. . . ."

"They're always landscapes," Evan finished.

"Yeah." McKay's expression turned sympathetic, and Evan suddenly identified with the physicist. Jennifer had been kidnapped more than once. "Look, it's probably just some joke, but I need to work some more on this. _Without_ anyone hovering over my shoulder."

Evan wanted to complain, but Teyla placed a hand on his arm right then. "Perhaps Sara's friends at the police department would be able to shed some light on this."

Evan nodded at the not-so-subtle hint. "Yeah. I've got someone I can call. Nathan Keith. He's a detective and should be able to let get me some information."

"Good." Sheppard pointed. "Chewy, you and I will go with Lorne. Teyla, stay with McKay. I want to know the moment you find something."

McKay waved him away, and Ronon willingly followed Sheppard to the door. Evan, however, hesitated. "Hey, McKay, can we get a copy of that photo?"

"Sure." McKay clicked a few buttons, and Sara's printer spit out a photo-quality copy.

"Thanks." Evan waited until the ink had dried before he rolled the photo into his pocket. He headed out the door, still trying to place the reason for his concern. Something wasn't right. Something, more than Sara, had changed. Then, as Ronon ducked into the backseat of his sedan, he had it. "You cut your dreads?"

Beside him, Sheppard grinned. "You're just now noticing?"

"Sorry, Sir. Been a little distracted."

Sheppard snickered. "You've got it bad!"

Evan didn't give Sheppard the satisfaction of arguing. Instead, he started the car and headed for the police department.

~TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Sara stayed silent during the entire ride to the safe house. Why others called it a "safe house" when it was a motel room confused her. Why did she, of all people, need a safe house? Still, she walked into the room without saying a word and eyed the two full-sized beds. The chintzy comforters and fluffed pillows did nothing to disguise the worn-out feeling. Sara had the strange urge to check and see if the headboards of the beds had left divots in the walls. It just looked like that kind of motel.

Detective Marsh followed her into the room. "Miss Johnson, I'm so sorry."

Sara whirled, her suitcase thudding against the floor of the second-story room. "What is going on?"

"I can't say." Marsh took a few steps toward her. "Look, I barely got brought in on this, and _only_ because I know your boyfriend. Same with Solano. Keith's runnin' this gig, and it's his place to tell you."

"But he's not telling me _anything_!" Tears came to her eyes, and she hated them. "In the last week, I have been threatened with an intrusive investigation and arrest, not to mention put on administrative leave without pay, and questioned about things that I have already told every single one of you. Now, you show up and rip me from my home and my cat and my life! So pardon me for being a little angry! Now. Someone had _better_ start _talking_!" By now, she'd worked herself into a full-fledged rant and glared at Marsh as though he had any control over her situation. The rational part of her brain told her that Marsh could not step out of line on this, and she quickly squelched that little voice. She wanted answers. She wanted Evan.

Marsh took a few steps forward and perched on the corner of the bed. "All I can say is you're in protective custody. You've got me, Solano, and Keith for the next while."

"How long?"

"I can't say."

"Why?"

"I can't say."

She growled. "You've got to give me something. _Anything._"

"Sara. . . ."

"No." She held up a hand. "I've had it with the bureaucracy that's involved in police work. You're a bunch of politicians when it comes to your precious promotions. I realize the military probably isn't much different, but at least there's national security to back up Evan's reasons. You're just afraid Nathan's gonna have your head if you tell me what's going on."

Marsh simply stared at her.

She let out another low growl and stalked into the bathroom to set up her toiletries. She didn't do much traveling, but she always unpacked when she first got to a hotel. Now, she slammed her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash onto the edge of the bathtub, making as much noise as possible. She set out her toothbrush and comb on the edge of the sink, staring in the mirror as she did so. What was happening to her?

When she returned to the main room, Marsh still sat on the edge of the bed. He'd shed his sport coat, revealing his sidearm in a shoulder holster. Sara stopped walking for just a moment. Marsh had always been the big teddy bear of a detective during her work with the crime lab. The only time she'd ever seen him as anything but friendly was when he worked a scene. Now, he waited for her to settle with a grim expression.

Choosing to ignore him, Sara finished unpacking her clothing and slamming the drawers. Then, she flounced over to the other bed and flopped down. She was being childish, but she wanted answers. And she knew no other way besides yelling to get them.

The hours dragged by. Sara eventually switched on the TV, earning her a glance from Solano as he sat by the window. She flipped through the channels until she ran across reruns of Wormhole X-treme. Deciding that cheesy sci fi was better than cold silence from the two cops in the room, she turned the volume up until she could understand the words. Marsh shook his head at her choice of entertainment and moved to the small table next to Solano's chair.

Halfway through the third episode of Wormhole X-treme, Nathan appeared with food. Sara sat up, her stomach growling at the smell of hamburgers from the greasy spoon near the crime lab. She ate there once a month and had considered taking Evan when he showed up for lunch next time. Just thinking of him turned her stomach, and she lost the sudden flash of appetite. She missed him. Watching Wormhole X-treme brought his silly comments to mind and made her smile at the screen. She knew that Marsh and Solano had seen and wondered about her sappy grin, but she couldn't bring herself to care. For now, though, she'd settle for answers.

Pressing the power button on the remote, Sara turned off the TV as Colonel Danning said, "It's what I _do_."

Nathan grinned at her. "How can you watch that stuff?"

She shrugged. "You have a problem with it?"

Marsh walked over and took an order of fries from Nathan's hands. "You might wanna tell her what's goin' on. She's been a bit. . .touchy since coming here."

Behind him, Solano smirked.

Sara glared at both men. "Forgive me for wanting an explanation as to why I was dragged out of my home without any warning and stashed in a cheap motel room."

Nathan handed out the rest of the food and settled on the foot of the bed that Sara hadn't occupied. Offering a foil-wrapped hamburger to her, he said, "You're here because we discovered something during the investigation."

She unwrapped the warm meal, willing to eat so long as she got her answers. "And that something is. . .?"

Nathan squirmed. "Your computer had been hacked."

"Ha!" She couldn't keep the triumphant tone from her voice, especially with the cheesiest episode of Wormhole X-treme running through her head. "I told Stanton I was innocent!"

Nathan grinned. "Yeah, he wasn't happy about it. Wanted to keep investigating you. The crime lab director put a stop to that."

"Thank him for me."

"Will do." Nathan narrowed his eyes, suddenly sober again. "However, we found out something more. Sara, there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say it. There's a price on your head. A mercenary group operating somewhere in California has a hit out on you for some reason."

The hamburger stuck in her throat, and she forced herself to swallow the half-chewed piece. "Excuse me?" she choked as her eyes began to water. She grabbed the iced tea Nathan had brought her and used it to ease the rest of the bite down her esophagus. "Why?"

"We don't know."

"But you stashed me here because you want to protect me?"

"Yeah."

"Do you realize what you've done?"

This time, Nathan blinked. "Sorry?"

"Evan." Sara shook her head. "Look, I'll be the first to admit that I don't know what he's into. But it's big. A man like that doesn't go away. I disappeared, which means he's gonna tear this city apart." _At least, I hope he does,_ she added silently.

Nathan stared at her without changing his expression. "I'll handle Evan."

Sara wanted to tell him that no one handled Evan. That Evan was his own man and would resent being kept out of the loop. But the words stuck in her throat. She lost her appetite, and the one thing that could calm her right now had been kept from her. Rather than enduring Nathan's concerned face, she rose and went to the bathroom to draw a hot bath.

Someone wanted her dead. And she didn't know how to get through this without Evan at her side.

oOo

Nathan watched Sara disappear into the bathroom and let out a quick breath. He hadn't wanted to tell her about the hit on her head, but he knew she had a right to know. No matter how much it stung for her to choose Lorne over him, he still cared for her. He'd made a pest of himself, and he saw that now. But he couldn't allow her to remain in danger.

Behind him, Marsh pushed to his feet. "You shoulda told her."

"I know."

"Lorne's not gonna be happy."

"I know that, too." Nathan rubbed his eyes, already tired of this entire situation. "I wish there was something I could do."

"There is." Marsh met his eyes. "Bring the man here."

"I can't."

"Can you afford for someone like him to tear this city apart, as Sara put it?" Marsh shrugged. "Lorne knows how to handle himself in a fight. We've all seen it. We've talked about it. That man is in deep, and he likely has contacts that we can't even begin to fathom. I recommend we bring him in. He'll protect her because he loves her, and he'll keep her calm because she loves him. We need both of those right now."

"Marsh, I know what you're trying to do." Nathan held up a hand to stall the other man's well-intentioned plans. "But I also know department procedure. Sara's in protective custody. She basically disappeared."

"You don't disappear from men like Lorne." Marsh rose and walked back to the table, about as far away from Nathan as he could get. "But, like I told Sara, you're runnin' this gig. It's your call."

Nathan ran his hand across his face and considered his options. He could keep Sara isolated and fight a war on two fronts. Marsh was right, as was Sara. All the guys had seen Lorne's devotion to her. They'd heard how he talked about her every Friday when he and Coughlin showed up to play basketball. And they'd quickly seen how aware Lorne stayed about his surroundings. The guy wasn't jumpy by any stretch of the imagination, but he always stayed on edge. As if someone might jump out and attack them at any moment. While all the cops at the Friday night games would have been ready for a threat, Lorne and Coughlin would have taken down the bad guys and returned to the game without breaking a sweat. Something Nathan couldn't say for all his men. He'd often wondered what Lorne had seen that hardened him into the soldier they all knew.

Could he afford to have a guy like that tearing San Francisco apart looking for his girl? Nathan shook his head. Lorne might not be the most expressive about his emotions, but he was methodical. He thought things through, planned everything with the precision of a military op, and executed his plans without mistakes. Failure wasn't an option for Lorne. In many respects, the man resembled a Marine more than an Air Force officer. But, then, special forces did that to a guy.

Nodding to Marsh and Solano, Nathan left the motel room and pulled his keys from his pockets. If he knew Lorne, he'd find the guy at either the police station or Sara's apartment. He needed to go to the department anyway and decided to make that his next stop. He finished his business, exited the station, and had just reached his car when Lorne appeared, followed by another officer with messy hair and a Hawaiian-looking giant. All three men appeared angry, and Lorne didn't stop until he stood face-to-face with Nathan.

"Where is she?"

Nathan let out a deep breath. "Protective custody." He led the way to a nearby bench, knowing that he'd have a bit of privacy if that giant kept glaring at the newbies. "I can't tell you where, but I know she's safe."

Lorne's eyes narrowed, and his facade cracked just enough for Nathan to see the very worried man underneath. "What happened?"

Nathan glanced at the men surrounding him. He trusted Lorne, but he didn't like how the giant kept glancing around. And the guy with messy hair just waited with his arms folded. Before explaining, he stuck out his hand to the second man. "Detective Nathan Keith."

"John Sheppard. The big guy over there is Ronon." He nodded toward Lorne. "Now care to answer the man's question?"

"In the process of investigating the leaked photos, we found out that there's been a hit put out on Sara." Nathan met Evan's eyes. "I managed to get Stanton to back off after he discovered that her work computer had been hacked. And I put her into protective custody myself. We don't know what the hacker was after beyond the photos, but we're still investigating."

Ronon stepped even closer. "We know."

"Excuse me?" Nathan had to tip his head back just to glare at the guy.

Lorne laid a hand on Ronon's arm. "We found this. . . ." He pulled a rolled photo from his jacket pocket. ". . . .on her personal computer. Someone had planted it there, and we've got one of our best guys tracing the hack as we speak."

Nathan ignored the whole "one of our guys" comment while he took the photo and looked over it. His face paled, and he knew it by the sudden coolness that washed over him. "Tell me this is some sick joke."

"No. Why?" Ronon apparently wasn't much for talk, and he kept his questions to monosyllables.

"Because this is one of Sara's crime scenes." Nathan took a closer look at the woman holding the file. "Unless I miss my guess, she had a hard time with this scene. Something about a wedding later that day."

The three men exchanged glances. Finally, Lorne spoke. "So you're telling me that my girlfriend had incriminating evidence on her computer? That she's in danger because of this?"

"Most likely." Nathan met the man's eyes, insisting on telling him the truth. "We don't know who these guys are, only that they're mercenaries who operate somewhere in the state of California. I've handed the case over to our organized crime division, and it's been given their highest priority. This photo must be the reason for the hit."

Lorne never looked away. "Take me to her."

"I wish I could."

Sheppard stirred. "Look, I have a few favors I can call in. I'll make sure to clear it with your supervisors. Just take the man to his girl. You never know when you'll need an extra hand around, and Lorne's not gonna put her life in danger."

Nathan stood in front of those three, his mind whirling with the implications of his decisions. Sheppard apparently held some sway in San Francisco, though he didn't know what. And Lorne wanted nothing more than to get to Sara. He couldn't be sure about Ronon, however, and finally decided to go with his gut. "Fine. But only Lorne. The rest of you. . .just stay out of the investigation."

Sheppard grinned. "No promises. And I'll make those calls right away."

Nathan accepted that, knowing he would get nothing more, and nodded with his head toward the police department. "Let's get this photo to the detectives, and I'll take you over to the safe house."

oOo

Across the street, Muscles watched the detective and Lorne disappear into the police department. He couldn't go in there, but he knew that his best chance of finding Sara had just been dropped in his lap. All he needed to do was follow the detective right to the safe house. Then, he could use Sara to find the way onto Lorne's military base.

As he waited, Muscles let his mind wander to the reason why his bosses wanted that base. What could be so terribly important? Violating national security wasn't a problem he had, and he'd served his time with pride. The government had never done a thing for him. He had no qualms about betraying it. However, when men like Lorne got involved, things got dicey. Muscles had seen Lorne's dossier. He knew the kind of guy this was. Calm. Quiet. Observant. Deadly. Those four qualities often translated into the scariest kinds of enemies. Most men like that became snipers.

The other two men with Lorne could become a problem, Muscles realized. Especially the big guy. He'd nearly made Muscles as he observed the quartet, but the conversation had drawn his attention before anything went south. Still, it bore greater precautions next time.

Muscles grinned. And there _would_ be a next time.

~TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Ronon slipped into the front seat of the car Sheppard drove and glared out the window. He didn't like Nathan Keith very much, but the man's refusal to take them to Sara resulted in that dislike. Ronon wasn't in love with her like Lorne was. However, he cared for her _because_ Lorne loved her. If he read the lieutenant colonel correctly, Sara was about to become a true member of the Atlantis family.

"Chewy?" Sheppard hung up the phone he'd used for the last several minutes and frowned at him. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Ronon watched the scenery outside begin to move and took a mental photograph of every face he saw. "Felt like someone was watchin' us. I think it was the guy across the street."

"You noticed that, too?" Sheppard glanced at him as he turned toward Sara's apartment. "Thought it was just me being nervous around so many cops."

"Not you." Ronon fell silent, watching the passing scenery. He felt disconnected, foreign. This wasn't his world. He'd lived in great concrete cities like this before, but his time as a Runner and on Atlantis had honed his ability to read an environment. Here, in Lorne's home city, he couldn't even do "his thing," as Sheppard called it. The smog that hung in the air disguised pure scents, and cars made tracking someone next to impossible. At least, when he'd been fighting Wraith, he knew his enemy. Now, he had no idea who wanted Sara dead or why.

At Sara's apartment, McKay met them at the door. "What took you so long?"

"It's good to see you, too, McKay." Sheppard pushed his way inside. The multicolored animal they called a cat made that same squeaky noise and moved to Ronon's legs. It rubbed against him, and he couldn't resist running his fingers along its back. The animal started making this strange whispered rumble that the others called a purr.

McKay glared at him. "I've spent the last half hour trying to get her to come to me. I mean, it's not like I don't know how to take care of cats. But that. . .creature just doesn't like me."

Sheppard watched Ronon pick up the little animal. "Why am I not surprised?"

Before McKay could launch into another tirade, Teyla stepped forward. "Rodney found something." She also glanced at Ronon, who now cuddled the animal close to his face. "He believes he found the hacker."

Ronon straightened, not minding the claws that this cat worked into his chest. Clearly she just wanted a little assurance that she wouldn't be left alone while her mistress was away. Ronon allowed her to settle into his arms as he listened to McKay.

"Well, I managed to back-trace the hack, and I found a location." McKay smiled smugly, something he hadn't lost in spite of his recent marriage to Jennifer. "As for the hacker, well, I don't know. I've been away for a while, so I don't know things like hacker names and such."

Sheppard waved aside his qualifying statements. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." McKay glared. "Would I tell you I was if I wasn't?"

"Do you want me to answer that?" Sheppard asked.

"Oh, ha, ha. At least I'm not out playing Colonel Superman all the time."

"Superman?" Sheppard glanced down at his clothing. "I don't wear a bright red cape. Batman fits."

"Oh, you think you're the Caped Crusader?" McKay straightened. "I'll have you know. . . ."

"Hey!" Ronon's deep voice startled the cat, and she scratched his arm on the way down, drawing blood. He ignored the cut as the animal landed on her feet. "We need to find this guy, right?" He patted the gun he'd tucked under his untucked shirt. "Let's get moving."

Suitably chastised, Sheppard led them back outside and into the sedan. Ronon used a Kleenex to wipe away the blood so it didn't stain his white shirt. He kept an eye on their surroundings, again frustrated with his inability to track anything in this city. He could find his way around and had cut his hair to fit in a little better, but he knew he didn't belong here. He should be back in Pegasus, fighting the Wraith. If the IOA would release Atlantis to return, Ronon wouldn't regret leaving a single thing behind.

They arrived at the location of McKay's information with little more than McKay's voice giving Sheppard directions. Sheppard parked the car in front of the block building, and Ronon glanced around. The only people in sight wore rags and layers of clothing even though the day had warmed. One grizzled old man eyed them and clearly decided they weren't worth his time when he caught sight of Sheppard's sidearm. The other three went scurrying for the shadows.

Sheppard glared at McKay. "You're sure this is the place?"

"Positive." McKay eyed the building, nearly hyperventilating as he did so. "Y'know, this looks an awful lot like that building where Agent Barrett and I were attacked by Wallace's men. Remember the guys who kidnapped me and Jeannie?"

"Yeah, we know." Sheppard pushed the front door open and ducked into a narrow hallway. Ronon followed, not liking the darkened interior or the sounds he heard through the thin walls. A baby cried somewhere while a woman yelled. He even heard what sounded like a romantic tryst against one of the doors. A mother yelled from behind another door, and some old guy needed help with snoring problems. Either that or hearing aids if he slept through all this noise.

Sheppard located the apartment and nudged the door with his boot. It didn't open, and Sheppard used a sleeve to protect the handle from fingerprints. He'd already lectured them about the need to keep their presence to a minimum. Apparently, General O'Neill, who owed all of them big time for nearly dying while saving Earth from that Super Hive, had agreed to get Lorne authorized to help Sara's protective detail. Anything else officially smacked of interference in a police investigation. Unofficially, however, O'Neill told Sheppard to do what he needed to do. The SGC protected their own.

The door opened without a sound, and Ronon smelled the blood. He pushed past Sheppard and stepped into the tiny apartment. Flies buzzed in the silence, and a large computer set-up covered a desk. Ronon found the owner slumped over the keyboard, his blood already dried into the crevices between the keys.

McKay carefully skirted the gore. "Oh, that's disgusting!"

Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Your wife might have a thing or two to say about that."

"My wife doesn't do _this_." McKay waved at the guy who'd had his throat slit.

Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "Can you trace this guy's emails?"

"You do know who you're talking to, right?" McKay shook his head. "Five years, and you still ask me stupid questions."

"McKay!" Sheppard seemed particularly upset. "We may have police on our tail at any time. We need all the information we can get and to get out of here as soon as possible."

McKay pulled his tablet out and started to unbury the main computer unit. "I can clone the hard drive, start tracing things from there. I would just hack it remotely, but that might be detected when the police get here and start going through it. Most of his work was done in cyberspace, though, so it's not a problem to hack his email and trace things from there."

"Wait." Sheppard frowned. "You can clone the _entire_ hard drive onto that little tablet."

"Please." McKay actually chuckled. "I've spent the last five years dealing with Ancient and Wraith tech. This. . .?" He motioned to the computer. "This is _primitive_by way of comparison. I'll have it cloned in no time. We should be able to take it back to Atlantis and get some information by this evening."

"Good." Sheppard nodded. "Get to work."

As McKay started working, Ronon moved back to the door. He still had the suspicion that they'd been followed even though he couldn't place the source of the unease. He refused to allow anyone to sneak up on this location until McKay was done. Then, he could find a nice quiet forest for a few days. He needed to get out of this city, get away from the noise, and find something to hunt.

oOo

Sara relaxed into her bath, forcing herself not to listen to the detectives talking in the other room. Marsh clearly wasn't happy with Nathan, and Solano kept his opinions to himself. At first, Sara had an issue with disrobing and bathing with three other men in the next room, but she needed to relax. The news that she had a price on her head, not to mention her wavering confidence in Evan, tied her into knots that only a professional massage therapist would be able to unravel.

Nathan left, and Sara relaxed into the silence. She allowed the hot water to cover her body and soak away the tensions of the last couple of days. Well, as away as it got in a strange motel room with cops watching her every move. As she sat there, she wondered how Zoey was doing. Did someone happen along who knew to feed her? Evan should have returned by now. Had he gone looking for her? She sincerely hoped he'd make himself a pain in Nathan's side.

By the time the water went cold, she'd managed to relax enough to drift. She couldn't imagine sleeping tonight, nor could she say she'd fully forgiven Nathan for his unwillingness to explain the situation in the first place. But she needed sleep. Her body required it, and the stress worked to invade her rest with horrific images born of all the crime scenes she'd ever visited. If she made it out of this alive, she'd likely never go back to work. A job at a fast-food place would probably appeal over this.

Sara stood, shivering in the cool room as she dried her body. She'd packed a silky pajama set and now slid into the deep blue pajama bottoms and matching top. She knew the guys would think her silly, but she couldn't relax without her night clothes. And at least these were modest enough to make a quick escape if she needed to. Her face heated as she thought about several other not-so-modest nighttime sets she'd purchased in the last few weeks, all in the hopes that she'd use them one day soon. For Evan, though. Not for three cops.

She left the bathroom and grabbed her hairbrush. The day had finally faded to night, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep. In her own bed. With Evan's arms around her, if possible. Instead, it looked like she'd get an uncomfortable mattress with a lumpy pillow and cheap sheets.

Marsh had turned on a football game, and Sara propped herself on top of the covers of her chosen bed to watch absently. When he reached for the remote, she waved a hand to indicate that she was okay. She wasn't ready to sleep just yet. Not really, not with the stress returning now that she'd awakened. Instead, she fiddled with the hem of her pajama top and tried to follow the football game. It was one sport she'd never really enjoyed, but Marsh found it incredibly riveting. Solano split his attention between the game and the cracked window.

Sara had just started drifting again when the door opened, admitting Nathan and another form. Marsh and Solano both tensed, but Nathan waved aside their questions as Evan entered behind him. Sara sat up so quickly that her back popped, but she ignored the sudden pain in order to stare at him. "Evan?" She scrambled off the bed and rushed directly into his arms. "Oh, thank God you're here!"

He held her close, not really doing much more than absorb her worry. When she finally pulled away to make sure she wasn't dreaming, he took her face in his hands. Rather than kissing her, he simply touched his forehead to hers. Sara smiled, knowing that he wouldn't want to greet her with a hot kiss in front of other men. So she endured the strange ritual he'd started a week ago at the police station.

Behind them, Nathan cleared his throat. "Guys, let's give 'em a moment." He stepped outside, followed by Marsh and Solano.

As the door closed, Evan pulled back from her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She grasped his wrists, smiling as his thumbs rubbed over her jaw. "How did you get here? I mean, I know _how_, but. . . ."

"Sheppard called in a favor." He glanced over his shoulder and realized they were alone. "I'm here with you while the cops investigate."

"Good." Sara followed his gaze and realized that Nathan, Marsh, and Solano argued outside. "Are you gonna kiss me? Or make me wait?"

He laughed and obliged her, effectively chasing every worry about assassination attempts, hackers, and criminals from her head. When he eased back, she drew in a deep breath. He grinned. "I'm happy to see you, too."

"Sorry I didn't call." She shrugged. "You were TDY."

"I know." He pulled her back into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. "I'm here, though. And, unless something major comes up back on base, I'll stay right here."

For the first time since this entire thing began, Sara felt safe.

oOo

Sheppard drove back to the parking lot that the SGC had rented specifically for members of the Atlantis Expedition to use as a Jumper parking zone. The sun had set, and he had to hand it to McKay. The man could work miracles. He'd cloned the hacker's entire hard drive, adding it to his tablet without breaking a sweat. Even now, McKay sat next to him, his eyes eagerly looking over the encryption the hacker used and untangling the threads that led back to SaraLeigh.

A flash of light caught his attention yet again, and Sheppard glared. He'd seen those headlights before.

Ronon caught the expression. "What?"

"I think we're being followed." Sheppard took the next right suddenly. The other car passed the intersection but appeared a few blocks later on another busy street. "McKay, scan for anything sending out a signal from this car."

Rodney stared at him. "You think we're being tracked?"

"Maybe." Sheppard continued driving. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"Give me a minute." McKay pressed a few buttons on his tablet, pulled out his LSD, pressed a few more buttons, and groaned. "You're right. The car's sending out a GPS signal. Five-by-five."

"Great." Sheppard floored the pedal. "We've got nowhere to go."

"Yeah, we do." McKay stared at him. "We've got the Jumper."

"And by going to the Jumper, we're gonna lead whoever's following us right to it."

"Yeah, but we're dealing with standard Earth tech." McKay glared at his computer screen. "From what I can tell, it's state-of-the-art, but nothing an Ancient cloak couldn't deal with. We just park the car, disappear into the Jumper, and fly away. Then, later, we come back and make sure that the tracker is disabled."

"Can't you jam it?" Teyla asked from the backseat, having picked up a lot of Earth terminology during her time in Atlantis.

McKay glanced at her. "If I had the correct equipment. Which I don't."

"Great," Ronon said. "I knew we were being followed."

Sheppard ignored traffic laws as he sped toward their destination. "Yeah, I thought so, too. But I didn't want to give anything away. I guess that's a moot point now."

oOo

Muscles pulled into the parking lot, his GPS tracker telling him that the car had stopped here. He looked around. Several dark cars, a few SUVs, and one van dotted the parking lot. Rope and signs indicating fresh paint cordoned off the handicapped spaces. He parked and looked around. With so few cars, his quarry had nowhere to hide. Still, they'd managed to disappear.

Standing in the middle of the parking lot with his hands on his hips, he pulled out his encrypted cell phone and dialed a number.

"Yes?" Shomake answered with a calm, almost arrogant tone. The man had definitely grown a rather large head during his time leading this particular outfit.

"I lost 'em."

"You're not looking hard enough."

Muscles walked over to the car and felt the hood. Warm. He ducked and found his tracker still under the front fender. "I looked just fine. I got to the parking lot less than a minute after they got here. They're _not_ here."

"People just don't disappear."

"I know that!" Muscles growled. He'd been getting tired of the run-around lately. He wanted on that military base just to satisfy his own curiosity. Someone had paid them a great deal of money just to find it and a way onto it. Instead of working on the biggest score they'd ever received, he was stuck following Lorne's buddies while they did disappearing tricks. Not to mention the woman Shomake had him chasing. "Why do you want this woman, anyway?"

"She has something of mine, something that can't fall into the wrong hands." Shomake sighed. "When that's done, you can beat the snot out of Lorne and find out about that military base. But I warn you. Our clients want whatever is there. It's not ours for the taking."

"Whatever." Muscles hung up the phone, not liking how Shomake treated him as a mindless brute. He might have looked like a mindless brute, but one didn't do four years as a Navy SEAL without learning a few things. Sheppard and Lorne were black ops. _Very_ black ops. The big Hawaiian-looking guy made Sheppard and Lorne look puny, and the small woman. . . .Muscles couldn't explain her. Calm. Collected. Very much like Lorne. And the nervous little man made him laugh.

Whoever these people were, they had something of great importance to the US government. Something that they didn't want to fall into the wrong hands. Something that he planned to find and use to his advantage.

~TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Evan changed when Nathan, Marsh, and Solano returned to the hotel room. Sara stepped back from him, giving him the space he needed to transition from comforter to protector. She watched the blasé mask fall into place with a shake of her head. When they'd first met, Evan had treated her with that same distance, though always with a smile. Now, his smile only appeared when he glanced at her.

Nathan walked over to the small table. "Sara, there's something you should see."

Sara followed him to the table, sensing Evan directly behind her. She settled into the chair, enjoying the feel of Evan's hand on her shoulder. She could handle anything with him beside her. "Okay."

Instead of producing anything, Nathan nodded to Evan, who set a rolled photo on the table in front of her. Nathan nodded toward it. "The colonel's people found that on your computer. Do you recognize it?"

She glanced at the photo, her eyes quickly realizing that it wasn't one of hers. She didn't work with models. She worked with landscapes. "No." Then, she frowned. "Wait." She tugged the photo closer, flattening it out and studying the background. The woman carrying the file looked frightened, clearly not wanting her life to end. And the man's profile was perfectly showcased between two window panes. She slowly looked up at Nathan. "This is. . . ."

Nathan nodded. "The execution of that secretary. From what I understand, you had a wedding right after this."

Sara sat back in the chair, all the tension she'd felt a little while ago flooding back to her. Evan's hands moved, and their warmth seeped into her shoulders as he tried to keep her from bolting. Sara knew he probably looked silly like this, but she couldn't stop herself from reaching up to grab one of his hands. "We never found her killer, did we?"

"No." Nathan shook his head. "The bullet was too fragmented to be much use, and there was no shell casing, no fingerprints, no DNA. Just. . .nothing."

"So why did I wind up with a photo of the murder on my computer?"

Evan moved again and propped his hip on the table next to her, effectively boxing her between himself and Nathan. "Your computer was hacked. Colonel Sheppard had one of our best guys look at your computer. He found the photo and printed it out."

"Hacked?" Sara turned back to Nathan. "Didn't you tell me that my work computer was hacked? That that's how the crime scene photos were leaked to the press?"

Nathan nodded. "And, with you being a member of the crime lab, it's becoming our top priority to find the people who did this."

Evan raised an eyebrow. "Becoming?"

Nathan glared. "You know what I meant."

"You people are the ones who didn't even explain what happened to her when you took her into protective custody."

"We had to move fast." Nathan never raised his voice. Neither did Evan, for that matter, but Sara sensed the two gearing up for a pissing contest.

"Boys!" She stood suddenly. Glancing between the two of them, she let out a quick breath. "Let's get along. Nathan, you're here to do a job and because you're a friend. Evan's here because we're dating. Both of you have a personal stake in this, but don't let that override your good sense and your ability to do the jobs you need to do."

Evan actually grinned at her, but Sara ignored him. Nathan blinked, surprised at her firm voice. For her part, Sara couldn't believe she'd just stood up to the two obviously armed men and kept them from fighting. Then, she frowned. When had Evan grabbed a gun? She couldn't recall any of the cops in the room giving it to him.

Nathan glanced at his watch. "It's late." He looked at Sara. "I'm gonna leave Colonel Lorne and Marsh in here with you. Solano and I can switch out with them later tonight. But you need some sleep."

Sara nodded, not telling them that she could sleep now that Evan had arrived. Her dependence on him scared her a bit, but she didn't want him somewhere else, leaving her to face an assassin on her own. As Nathan slipped into an adjoining motel room she hadn't noticed before now, she headed for the bathroom. She grabbed her brush from the vanity and set about running it through her hair for the final time that night.

Evan walked up behind her, his reflection in the mirror making her want to flush in spite of her modestly clothed state. "For the record, I'm here because I love you." His words, whispered directly into her ear, caused her hair to flutter ever so slightly.

She turned, seeing how Marsh studiously read that day's paper by lamplight. Looking back at Evan, she tried to breathe past the constriction in her chest. Had he really just told her that he loved her? "Sorry?"

"Earlier." He backed away and took both her hands in his. "You said I was here because we're dating. You're wrong. I'm here because I love you."

Hearing it a second time really brought the meaning home. She wanted to return the words, but she couldn't get anything out past the lump in her throat. Not to mention the detective in the room. Tears came to her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. "I'm sorry. Everything makes me cry lately."

Evan gathered her in his arms, ignoring the other man, and held her close. Sara slipped her arms around his waist, amazed at how perfectly they fit together. She wasn't wild or adventurous, and neither was he. She still had her doubts about their relationship, namely, what his classified job would do to them in the long run. But she'd also never felt this depth of emotion before. Just by appearing, he had calmed every nerve in her body, making it easy for her to be tired in spite of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Rather than getting upset that she didn't say the words back to him, Evan led her toward the bed. "You need sleep." He pulled back the blankets and patted the mattress.

Sara sat down, loving the idea of being tucked in by him. Before he could move away, she grabbed is wrist and tugged his face toward hers. "For the record, I love you, too."

The smile that blossomed on his face sent her to sleep with her smile firmly in place.

oOo

"Rodney, come to bed." Jennifer's voice pulled him from his work. He turned smiled as his wife leaned against the archway leading to the bedroom of their new, larger quarters. She wore pink pajama bottoms, a gray tank top, white robe, and fuzzy bunny slippers. Her hair, rumbled from sleep, fell around her face as she blinked owlishly at him. He had to admit that she'd never looked more beautiful than right then.

_And she's mine_, he reminded himself yet again. It seemed that he did so every morning when he woke up and every evening when he fell asleep next to her. They hadn't passed the honeymoon stage of their marriage yet, but real life had intruded. A series of accidents on Atlantis left her working late shifts, and Lorne's missing girlfriend added another stress level. Tonight was the first evening they'd had together in a week.

Guilt at staying up so late gnawed at him, and Rodney stood to walk over to her. "I'm sorry." He kissed her, enjoying the way she leaned into him.

"Mmmm." Jennifer smiled up at him. "What are you working on?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Um. . .computers."

She chuckled. "I can see that. I was wondering what kept you up until three in the morning."

"Three?" He turned his wrist so that he could see his watch. "I didn't realize. . . ."

"It must be big if it's kept you up this late." She smiled coyly at him. "You've been staying on a regular bedtime lately."

"Hmm, might have something to do with my beautiful wife." Rodney tugged her toward the couch. "What do you know about the recent issue with Lorne?"

"Only that he had a personal issue that necessitated some leave." Jennifer shrugged. "I get briefed on stuff like that as CMO. That way, I know who's on base and who isn't when schedules get shifted or stuff hits the fan."

Rodney nodded. "Well, his girlfriend went missing."

Jennifer's eyes widened. "Sara? What happened?"

Suddenly, he understood her panic. She'd known SaraLeigh Johnson from their high school days. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry! I forgot you knew her!"

"_Knew_ her?" Jennifer's panic rose. "She's dead?"

"No!" In his rush to reassure her, he actually yelled. Taking a deep breath, he visibly calmed himself. "No, she's not dead. She's in protective custody. But Sheppard had me going through her computer, and I found out it had been hacked. Now, I'm trying to trace some emails from the guy who hacked her computer."

"So she's okay?"

"Yes. She's okay. Lorne's with her, keeping us apprised as needed." Rodney waved a hand in a calming motion. "She's with the one guy other than Ronon who can keep her safe."

Jennifer let out a few deep breaths, all sleepiness gone from her face. "What have you found?"

"A lot, actually." He moved back to the computer, calling up the documents he needed. Jennifer might not have understood everything, but she listened to every word he said as if it mattered. And, many times, it did. "The hacker was one Martin Myers. He'd done time for cyber-terrorism against a local bank. Nathan Keith was the one that put him away. When they found him, he'd stashed some incriminating evidence in his room. Guess who photo'd the crime scene."

"Sara."

"Exactly." Rodney tapped a few more keys. "I traced the hack on Sara's computer back to Myers's computer and hit the jackpot. Myers was in communication with someone concerning Keith and Sara. Apparently, he wanted to discredit them and, if possible, eliminate them. He seems to have hired someone to do the job, but I haven't found out who. I was almost there when you interrupted."

Jennifer kissed his temple. "I'm sorry."

He waved a hand. "Don't be. Now that you know what's going on, you'll understand why I'm still working."

She didn't say a word but turned toward their bedroom. Rodney tapped a few more keys, still sifting through the cyberspace junk on this guy's computer. Martin Myers apparently liked his porn as much as the money he siphoned out of various bank accounts since his release from prison. Most of that money went somewhere. _Follow the money._ The popular phrase from an old CSI episode floated through his head as he finally found the one thread he'd searched for all night. As the name flashed across the screen, his eyes widened. "Oh, no."

Jennifer whirled. "What is it?" She rushed to his side. "Patriotism Alliance, Inc?"

"Yeah." Rodney raced across the room to grab the radio earpiece he'd dropped on the table Jennifer placed by the door for just that purpose. "They're a paramilitary group known to hire out to the highest bidder."

"And you know this how?"

"Um. . .briefing?" He shrugged. "Look, the thing you need to know is that I traced the money and emails concerning Sara back to these guys. If Patriotism Alliance has a file on her, that means they have a file on Lorne. If they have a file on Lorne. . . ."

"They could have information on Atlantis." Jennifer stared at him.

Rather than answering his wife, Rodney tapped the earpiece. "McKay to Sheppard. Wake up. We have a problem."

oOo

"Sir, we have a problem."

Former Colonel Thomas Shomake looked up from his computer to glare at the suited interruption to his endless evening. He'd come to the office to fill out the final paperwork on the latest fiasco and had never left. One of his men called, claiming their quarry just disappeared. And another member of his team emailed to let him know that a leak had been plugged. This new problem should not have happened. "What is it?"

"We've been hacked." The geek in a suit stepped further into his office and wrung his hands. "I was contacted by IT a few minutes ago. Someone apparently got in and accessed our files."

"How?"

"We don't know."

"You _what_?"

"We tried to run a back-trace, but nothing came up." The geek got really tense. "In fact, we hit a firewall so thick we were worried we'd set off someone else's alarms."

"We've infiltrated top level government organizations before." Shomake glared. "What makes this any different?"

The geek shook his head. "We're dealing with something out there bigger than we've ever encountered. Whoever is behind it is scarily good."

"How badly are we compromised?"

"The Myers case."

Shomake closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. He still looked every bit the drill sergeant he pretended to be. "Find out who did this and plug the hole. Don't come back here until it's done."

The geek ran for the door.

Shomake sat back in his chair and smiled grimly at his computer screen. Someone had clearly underestimated him. He wasn't an idiot government employee. He couldn't be brought down that easily. This new computer had a weakness, as did the people behind it. He would find it, exploit it, ruin them, and press on with life. After all, he had a client to please and a classified military base to find.

Narrowing his eyes, Shomake read over the email he'd received just before the interruption. His man in the PD had come through for him. They had a location on SaraLeigh Johnson. Finding the woman with the photo of him eliminating another threat from their recent acquisition of a small paramilitary group in San Francisco was crucial. Now that the safe house had been located, he could send Muscles and his henchmen over there to eliminate the new threat.

oOo

Evan watched Sara sleep as the midnight hour passed. Marsh retired for the night, and Solano seemed content to read the novel he'd brought. Evan knew better than to assume the cop wasn't watching his every move. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from Sara's face.

She slept with her hand curled under her chin, her dreams sending various expressions across her face. He wondered what each expression meant, but he knew he couldn't wake her. She needed the rest. Right then, he longed to lie down next to her, pull her into his arms, and let her hair tickle his nose as he drifted to sleep. He doubted Solano would have an issue with it, but he refused to show that much of himself to these men. He'd already allowed them to see too much. But Sara had needed his proximity earlier.

And she loved him. Evan smiled without realizing he'd done so as he thought about her sleepy declaration. She hadn't forced it out but merely corrected what he assumed about her. When she hadn't immediately returned the words, he thought he'd moved a little too fast. Now, he realized she'd simply been overwhelmed. The idea that he could overwhelm her sent a little shiver of awareness down his spine. He'd never been the type to dwell on emotions, but Sara seemed to have awakened something in him.

Her face scrunched into a scowl, and she let out a small whimper in her sleep. Solano looked over, and Evan straightened in his chair. If she settled back into sleep, he'd leave her alone.

Instead of settling, she rolled onto her back. A moment later, she sat bolt upright, her mouth opened as if to scream. Evan surged out of his chair and touched her shoulder before she woke the entire motel. "Hey, I'm right here. Calm down."

Sara turned to him. "Evan?" She blinked, and reality returned to her face. "I dreamed."

"I figured." He settled on the bed next to her, not minding the way she curled into his side. She laid her head on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh as she started drifting.

The soft knock on the door ended the moment. Sara sat up perfectly straight as Evan's hand dropped to the sidearm he now openly wore. Solano jumped to his feet and unsnapped the holster on his own Glock. Evan shifted so that he sat in front of Sara as Solano peeked through the curtains. He sent a glance toward Evan and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know who had arrived. Evan silently motioned to Sara, and the two men switched places. Seeing the pair outside, however, he simultaneously relaxed and tensed. As if that wasn't a contradiction in the first place.

Turning to Solano, he said, "Go wake Keith. We got company." Then, without asking the detective's permission, he unlocked the front door. "Colonel Sheppard. What brings you here?"

Sheppard stepped inside, followed by Ronon, his eyes taking in the one rumpled bed and Sara's panicked expression. Keith rushed into the room, hair standing on end from hours of sleep. Marsh followed, not looking much better. Keith walked forward until he stood nose-to-nose with Sheppard. "I thought we agreed you weren't gonna come here. Only Lorne."

Sheppard took one step back. "Things changed."

Evan's eyes narrowed. "Sir?"

"McKay got a lead." Sheppard glanced at the detectives again. "You guys might wanna sit down, because the situation just got complicated."

~TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Evan stood in the armory, looking over the P90s available. He could have chosen one, but, like any good soldier, he had his favorite. _Ahhh, there it is,_ he thought with a grim smile. Picking up the weapon, he checked to see that it had been cleaned to his specifications. The soldiers manning the armory kept these guns in prime condition, but they went above and beyond for their commanding officers. Even now, Sheppard racked the slide on his own P90, satisfied.

The last few hours had changed so many things. Sheppard had appeared at Sara's motel room, declaring that things had gotten complicated. McKay had traced the hack on Sara's computer to a convicted felon. That felon apparently planted incriminating evidence on Sara's computer of a murder in progress—one for which she'd seen the aftermath. The man shooting the woman in the photo traced back to none other than Colonel Thomas Shomake, retired Marine Corps. Apparently during his last year in the Corps, Shomake decided to start his own paramilitary group. Most of the group's operations were legitimate, but a few, like this hit on Sara, weren't. Sheppard decided to raid the mercenary's compound when McKay found evidence that Patriot Alliance, Inc. had been hired by the Trust to find a way onto Atlantis. He did so with the backing of the SGC.

Sara didn't know any of this. Oh, she knew the name of the murderer and that he ran a mercenary company. But she couldn't understand Evan's insistence on going on the raid. She had Keith, Marsh, and Solano with her, taking her to a new safe house as Evan rushed back to Atlantis to prepare for this mission. He trusted those three guys, and they knew that meant something. He caught the solemn nod Keith had given him after he tucked Sara into the car. She hadn't liked his involvement in this mission, but she'd not said a word. She simply kissed him, refusing to allow his natural reticence for showing affection to stop her from giving him a send-off he'd have a hard time forgetting.

_This_ was what he'd hoped to avoid during his entire military career. Sara wasn't military, nor was any of her family. She had no way of understanding that his life could end today. She couldn't comprehend just how far he traveled when he went TDY. Part of him wanted to tell her, to share the wonder of the universe with her. But he also worried about what would happen to her if he never returned. Would she be able to recover?

Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Evan marched into Sheppard's Jumper and settled into a seat. Since returning to Earth, their TAC vests had been lined with Kevlar, and he appreciated the safety the extra layer provided. It gave him a fighting chance. With their destination minutes away in the cloaked Jumper, he allowed his senses to sharpen. He heard every shift of every person in the Jumper, how McKay fumbled with his computer, and how Ronon let out deep breaths as he prepared for the fight.

The Patriot Alliance compound in Los Angeles was located in the middle of a bunch of warehouses. The group likely housed their weapons and tactical gear there, as well as their central operations. From what McKay had found, the group wasn't that large. They were just extremely good at what they did. Their covert missions included assassinations, espionage, and terrorism. They used their legitimate defense contracts to disguise these covert ops.

And that's what got complicated. McKay had continued to dig until he found the people responsible for hiring Shomake to go after Sara. The Trust had decided to take an interest in Atlantis, like everyone knew they would, but Shomake made it personal by going after the lady Evan loved.

At the compound, Sheppard set the Jumper down and swiveled in his seat. "All of you are armed with stunners. Take as many down as possible with those." He glanced at Lorne. "That being said, if they shoot first, do what you need to do."

Evan nodded once. "And Shomake?"

"Take him alive if possible." Sheppard stood. "We need to know his connection to the Trust and how deep that goes."

Evan nodded again and followed Sheppard out of the Jumper. The sun had just risen after a long night, and the strike team spread out to cover the entire area. Evan spotted Coughlin on Teldy's team, as well as his own team and one other group from Atlantis. Sheppard had taken no risks. For some reason, Evan grinned. So he wasn't the only one going into this fight with a girl waiting at home.

Coughlin and Teldy set charges on each side of the large overhead doors at the front of the warehouse. Reed and Mehra set charges at the regular door. Sheppard used hand signals to send others around the corners, ready to capture anyone who tried to escape out the back. Once the radios clicked twice to let them know everyone was in place, Sheppard nodded to Teldy and Mehra. The two women pressed the button on the detonator's, and the air filled with smoke, shouts, and men scrambling for weapons.

Evan moved into the warehouse, his knees bent and P90 lifted to shoulder level. One finger on the trigger, he saw everything that happened around him. One of the mercs opened fire, and Mehra took him down with a single stunner bolt. Evan turned to quickly survey the area.

They moved through several cars, all of them poised to escape should something happen. With the teams coming through them, the mercenaries were forced backward, toward tables lined with weapons being cleaned, computers, and several offices. The first of the bullets whizzed past Ronon's head, and the Satedan ducked behind a car, popping up to take out the guy who fired on him.

"Switch to live rounds!" Sheppard yelled. It was his signal to take out as many of these bad guys as possible. Evan acknowledged the order and took aim, dropping a kid around twenty-five years old who tried to take off his head. He felt little regret at the moment, his quick gaze moving on to the next guy. And the next. He knew this mission would bug him later, and he'd find a gym somewhere to pound out the frustration on a punching bag. But, for now, he needed to do this. _Sara_ needed him to do this.

The Atlantis personnel moved forward, herding the mercenaries toward the center of the room. Just when he thought they had things in hand, Evan's leg crumbled beneath him as fire blazed down the limb and up into his torso. He let out a loud yell, unable to stop the natural reaction to the pain. Mehra whirled, her eyes wide at seeing her CO go down with a bullet in his leg. Evan fell, forcing himself back to a sitting position and grabbing for his leg. He clamped a strong hand on the wound, trying to slow the blood loss.

Chaos exploded as he went down. Sheppard and the Atlantis personnel yelled while more gunfire from hidden weapons took down two others. Another bullet, this one stronger than the first, slammed into Evan's chest and threw him backward. He struggled to breathe as his body writhed in pain. He could only groan, knowing that something had gone terribly wrong. The Kevlar should have stopped normal bullets. These guys had armor piercing rounds?

"Lorne!" Coughlin's voice echoed in his head, but an angry Marine Corp colonel appeared.

Thomas Shomake knelt over Evan's body. "So, this is the mighty Lorne." He sneered. "I thought you'd be harder to take down."

Evan couldn't get any words out through his clenched teeth, but he took great pleasure in seeing his blood splatter on the man's face as if he'd spit on him. He struggled to breathe as Shomake stood, grinding the heel of his boot into the wound on Evan's leg. Evan yelled again, this time drawing more attention.

Shomake chuckled. "You killed my son." He aimed. "I'd love to make you suffer, but I don't have that kind of time. Just know this: your girl is dead already. And you're the one who did it to her."

Evan closed his eyes, shaking his head as Ronon's blaster sounded. The weight on his leg lifted, and he blinked as Coughlin hovered over him.

"Stay with me, Sir." Brian's hands fumbled with the front of his shirt, finding the bullet wound and pressing down. "I need a medic!" he yelled.

Evan felt the darkness closing in on him and knew he wasn't gonna make it. "Brian." His voice came out in a whisper. "Tell Sara. . . ."

"You tell her yourself, Sir." Brian shifted to allow Mehra to crouch down. "I'm not losin' my brother-in-law before I even have a chance to make it official."

_Brother-in. . . .?_ Evan's thoughts drifted as he blinked. He couldn't leave Sara like this. He needed to get to her. To save her. Forcing the pain to the back of his mind, he tried to sit up. Or so he thought. He heard Sheppard yelling at someone for a beam-out, and he realized that he wasn't coming back from this. He'd seen the last of the action for his life.

Angry at himself for putting Sara into the position of grieving for him, he ground his teeth as his world disappeared in a blinding white light.

oOo

Jennifer McKay slipped from the isolation room in Atlantis's infirmary with a sober expression on her face. She'd already changed into clean scrubs and ensured that Colonel Lorne rested comfortably. Now it was time to break the news to Colonel Sheppard and Lorne's team.

"Doc?" Coughlin jumped to his feet, asking the question before Sheppard had a chance to get it out.

Jennifer glanced at Rodney and drew strength from her husband's presence. "I've done all I can. The leg wound wasn't too severe, but he will need some PT. However, the other bullet bounced around in there. He had a ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, and a punctured lung. Not to mention the cracked ribs. He lost a lot of blood and is in a coma right now. I don't know how well he'll do when he wakes up. _If_ he wakes up." Her voice broke, and she took a moment to steady herself. "Right now. . . ." She took another deep breath. "Right now, he's in a coma and on a respirator. I reinflated the lung and repaired the damage, but only time will tell the rest."

Sheppard nodded and stood, not happy with the report on his 2IC. He walked out of the room before anyone else could say a word.

Jennifer waited until everyone but Rodney left before she fell apart. Tears came to her eyes, and she let her husband hold her. "I don't know what Atlantis will be without him."

"He's not dead, yet." Rodney had once been jealous of Lorne but realized that Jennifer saw him as an older brother. "He's a fighter. He'll pull through this. We'll make sure of it."

Jennifer nodded and hoped Rodney was right.

oOo

Sheppard didn't wait for Woolsey to acknowledge his presence when he walked into the office. As they flew back to Atlantis after Lorne had been beamed over, Ronon told him what he'd heard from Shomake. That criminal was in SGC custody, already transferred to Cheyenne Mountain for interrogation. While they'd waited for Jennifer to complete Evan's surgery, McKay had done some digging into the Patriot Alliance's computers. It seemed that Shomake had learned Sara's location just before the raid, the work of one Mark Stanton, Internal Affairs at the San Francisco Police Department.

Now, he stared at Atlantis's director. "I want to bring SaraLeigh Johnson here."

Woolsey straightened. "Colonel, you know we can't do that. I don't care what Colonel Lorne's condition is. She doesn't have the clearance."

"She's sitting in a safe house right now, waiting for news of Evan's safe return. Have you received a report from Jennifer yet?" Sheppard let out a quick breath when Woolsey shook his head. "Good, because I'm here to give it. Lorne may not make it. He's barely holding on, and, from what Ronon told me, he thinks Sara's already dead. Apparently Shomake told him that just before he lost consciousness."

Woolsey pressed his lips together. "Be that as it may. . . ."

"We owe this to Lorne." Sheppard glared. "The man gave the last four years of his life for this city. He nearly died with me on the Hive that attacked Earth. General O'Neill told _both_ of us that he owed us big for what we did. Now, I'm willing to call in every favor I have to get her to Lorne's side. Will you allow it?"

"Colonel, I just can't imagine what Ms. Johnson has to offer the Stargate Program."

"What about the life of one of the best men in the Program?" Sheppard dropped into a chair and leaned forward. "Lorne's dying. Jennifer says it can go either way, but we've gotta get Sara here so that he knows she's still alive.

"And think about this." He continued to lay out his case. "McKay found ties linking the Patriot Alliance to the Trust. That means their hit man may not be human. Or, not entirely human. Do you want a bunch of civilian cops out there fighting a Goa'uld simply because you refused to bring Sara to the safest place on the planet?"

Woolsey stared at him. "You've made your point, Colonel." He let out a deep breath. "If you convince General O'Neill, then I'll allow it. And _only_ if you convince the general."

"Yes, Sir." Sheppard bounced out of his chair and headed out the door, already pulling out his cell phone. After a few minutes, a voice on the other end picked up. "General O'Neill, please. Tell him it's Sheppard calling."

Several minutes passed, and Sheppard had resorted to pacing the control room before he heard Jack's dry voice. "Whaddya want, Sheppard?"

John straightened. "Sir, I need to call in that favor."

~TBC


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note:** I have to extend a big thank you to **tselea**. In her review, she gave me the idea for the very beginning of the chapter. I've used it almost verbatim. Enjoy! ~lg

When Sheppard commented that things had just become complicated, Sara lost all eloquence. She glared. "What do you mean, _just_ got complicated? I've had my computer hacked so crime scene photos I took could be leaked to the press! My _career_ was in jeopardy! I've had my personal computer hacked so that an incriminating photo could be planted. I was hustled out of my house with little to no warning, having to leave my cat behind with no idea whether or not she'd be cared for and with out as much as a 'by the way' to my boyfriend! And you have the nerve to tell me things just got complicated? I'd like to see what your life is like!" She let out a sharp breath and realized the scene she must make. Nathan, Marsh, and Solano blinked dubiously at her, and Evan grinned.

Just like that, her irritation vanished, and she wished the ground would swallow her alive. Instead, she buried her face in her hands when Sheppard turned to Nathan. "Well, I think that about sums it up."

Evan snickered and wrapped her in a hug, whispering that it was okay to be a little stressed. It softened the news that she'd have to transfer to a new safe house. Then, he met her eyes. "Sara, do what these guys tell you. They're not gonna steer you wrong."

She nodded, knowing that his job had just intruded yet again. Determined to cope with the stress, she bravely changed clothes and let the detectives tuck her into an unmarked car.

The move to the new location took about an hour. This time, Marsh and Solano drove her to a small two-bedroom house on the other side of town. Sara did everything they asked, part of her deal with Evan. He'd gone off to fight the bad guys, leaving her waiting behind while he put his life on the line. Her work with the crime lab left her well-versed in the dangers of shoot-outs. She'd seen too many of them in her time there.

To distract herself from the stress, Sara unpacked her suitcase and rubbed her eyes. She'd not had much more than a few hours of sleep. She combed through her hair, ate the food that Marsh provided, and brushed her teeth. The little house was better than the motel, so she explored the limited rooms. Impersonal and somewhat blasé, the house did little to soothe the stress.

Knowing her penchant for science fiction, Nathan appeared a short time after she ate with a Star Wars novel from the local store. Sara had already read it, but she gratefully accepted the distraction. Evan had promised to call her after the "op," as he called it. He'd promised to be safe. And he'd kissed her goodbye. Of course, Sara had forced that on him, but he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. Now, she willed her mind to focus on Luke Skywalker and his adventures rather than her boyfriend's real life fight. She even missed Zoey's playful habit of hiding under the couch and pawing at her feet.

When noon came and went, Sara pushed out of the couch and started pacing. None of the guys had the heart to tell her to stop, so they left her to her thoughts.

Nathan had refused to go into hiding himself. Sheppard told them of the price on Nathan's head, the result of Martin Myers's vendetta, but Nathan denied the need to hide away. Sara suspected that he wanted to be strong for her, to help her through this. And she appreciated it. She'd always thought herself strong, though her emotions often wavered. Crime scenes rarely sickened her until recently, and she liked to think that she could survive on her own. But she knew the truth. She needed Evan. She'd become a soldier's girl, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

A knock sounded on the door around three that afternoon, and Sara rushed forward. Marsh held her back, however, as Solano looked through the peephole. He quickly unlocked the door and admitted Colonel Sheppard. He turned to Sara, and her heart sank.

Rather than allowing herself to fall apart, she lifted her chin. "Evan?"

Sheppard didn't shake his head like she thought he might. He gave her a direct stare and then glanced at the two detectives. Marsh and Solano gave them the room, and Sheppard walked over to her. "We don't know."

"You don't know?"

"He was injured today. Shot."

"Oh, God!" Her composure started to crumble. "How bad is it?"

"He's in a coma." Sheppard put a hand on her shoulder. "Someone told him you were dead, that you hadn't made it out of the safe house alive. Doc Keller, I mean, McKay thinks your presence with him might help him recover if he knows you're alive. But that's all conjecture."

"Um. . . ." Sara looked around, trying to find a Kleenex or something to wipe her nose. Anything to avoid seeing the sympathy in Sheppard's eyes. He didn't expect Evan to pull through this. "Okay." Her voice trembled. "Just. . .give me a few minutes to pack things up. I'll. . . .Where is he?"

"That's the other thing." Sheppard lowered his voice even further. "He's on base."

"His classified base?" When Sheppard nodded, she panicked. "But I can't get there! You came here to tell me I can't. . . ."

Sheppard pulled her into a strong, sudden hug, something that Sara resisted for a few moments. When she finally calmed, he met her eyes. "I've got you clearance. But _only_ you. Now, from what I understand, you can refuse police protection, but it's gotta be _your_ decision, not mine. That's the only way I can take you there."

"You still think someone wants me dead?"

"We're not sure." Sheppard nudged her toward the back of the house. "But I know we gotta go now."

Sara nodded and hurried into the room she'd picked as her own. She began throwing her things into her bag without paying much attention to what she was doing. Evan needed her. That's all that mattered right now. If he died, she wanted to be there. Not here, leaving him alone because she was too scared to face what might happened. Even if he did pull through, there might be long-lasting effects. Maybe even disability. But that didn't matter right now. She _loved_ him, and she took a few moments to steel up her resolve. "I am _not_ leaving him," she said softly to the reflection in the mirror.

"Sara?" Nathan's voice in her door startled her, and she whirled. He frowned. "What are you doing?"

She put a hand on her chest. "Nathan, I'm refusing police protection."

"Why?"

"It's Evan." Her voice cracked, and she let out a deep breath in order to stabilize her nerves. "He's been hurt, and I need to get there."

"So we take you to the hospital."

"It's not that easy."

"Because of his job?" When she nodded, he scowled. "I knew this would happen." He walked away.

"Nathan?" She followed him to the door but saw him arguing with Sheppard. Deciding to let the men work out their own hassles, she picked up the photo she'd taken of her with Evan nearly a month ago. So much had changed. She'd changed. By going to Evan's military base, she was telling everyone that not only was she a soldier's girl, she was _this_ soldier's girl. That she wouldn't leave him no matter what. That she could handle the long separations and unknowns. But could she?

The argument in the living room cut off when she appeared. Sara glanced at Marsh and Solano, who looked upset with her. They didn't say a word, however, and gave her a solemn nod. They understood. Somewhat. Nathan looked downright furious. He glared at Sheppard as she passed him, unwilling to give an inch in his argument. Sara knew why he was so angry. She'd be just as angry if someone didn't allow her to get to Evan's side. Thankful that she'd not had that problem this time, she let Sheppard take her elbow and escort her outside to the dark sedan waiting for her.

A bullet pinged off the top of the car.

Sheppard grabbed Sara and yanked her down, yelling for her to duck. She crouched next to a wheel while he pulled a weapon from under his jacket. Marsh, Solano, and Nathan burst out of the house and rushed to their side. Sara found herself surrounded by testosterone, gunfire, and yelling. Neighbors undoubtedly tried to call the police, and glass shattered as a result of the gunfire. Sheppard popped up to take a shot, and Nathan dove at him, grunting as the two men hit the pavement.

Red blossomed on Nathan's side, and he groaned as he rolled off of Sheppard. Sara hurried over to him, her hands pressing into the wound as Sheppard shook his head to clear it. He'd smacked it into the concrete and now ducked behind the car at more oppressive fire.

Marsh pulled Nathan toward the car and their only cover as Solano yelled into the cell phone he used as a radio. "Officer needs assistance! We've got a man down! Two, possibly three gunmen armed with automatic weapons. I repeat: officer needs assistance! Man down!"

Sara ripped open her suit case, grabbing the first bit of cloth her hands touched. Blood stained the deep blue night clothes, and she suddenly understood what those minutes must have been like for the people around Evan. Chaotic. Uncertain. And painful. Nathan could still talk, and he pushed his gun into Marsh's hands. Sara glared at him. "Don't you give up! You're gonna pull through this!"

Nathan grabbed Sara's wrists. "Get to him, Sara. He needs you."

"I thought. . . ." She applied more pressure to his wound as Sheppard popped up to take another potshot at the bad guys. He ducked again, smiling in such a way that told her that he'd hit his target. Sara turned to Nathan. "We're gonna get you out of here."

Nathan nodded and lay back, waiting as she pressed more cloth into his side. Sirens sounded, and the shots became a little less regular. Either the bad guys were running out of ammunition or the sirens had scared them. Based on what Sheppard had told her, they likely had run short of supplies. Urging the ambulance to hurry, Sara jumped when Marsh grabbed her shoulder. She whirled around as he shoved his keys into Sheppard's hands. "Get outta here!" he told them. "The cops will detain you, and Lorne doesn't need that. Get her to him. We'll cover for you."

Sheppard clearly realized what Marsh had offered. He grabbed Sara's bag, ignoring the clothes she'd pulled out, and dragged her to her feet. She kept her head low as she ran toward the car in the driveway. Once inside, Sheppard pushed her into the floorboard and started the car. He accelerated out of the driveway without buckling his seat belt, leaving the two detectives to deal with the remaining shooters.

Sara stayed on the floorboard until Sheppard nodded that she could get up. She slipped into the seat and buckled her belt, eying her hands. Her entire front was covered in Nathan's blood.

"Don't worry." Sheppard turned the car into a nearly deserted parking lot. "We'll get some clothes for you on base."

Sara looked around. "I don't see a base around here."

Now that the tension had let off, Sheppard grinned. "Think again."

Sara turned, and her jaw dropped as a small, cylindrical ship materialized. "No way!"

"Way," Sheppard said as he pushed her inside. The ship came to life as he dropped into the pilot's seat. "Now, let's get you to your boyfriend."

oOo

Tears came to Sara's eyes when she finally saw Evan. True to Sheppard's word, she'd been given a stiff uniform when she arrived on base. Her shock at the Puddle Jumper, as Sheppard called it, paled in comparison when she thought about where Evan actually worked. Never mind the whole "going to other planets" bit. No wonder he found her love of science fiction amusing. He _lived_ it!

Now, however, her amazement at his base receded as she caught sight of him for the first time. He lay in a hospital bed, his face pale while a tube ran into his mouth. IV lines, tubes, wires, and monitors surrounded him. Jennifer stood next to the bed, watching her approach. Sara moved to the bed, staring. This couldn't be the man she loved. Not like this. "What. . . .?"

"He was shot with armor piercing rounds." Jennifer's voice softened in sympathy. "I've repaired the damage, but it's still touch and go. He needs you here, Sara. Someone told him you were dead, and I think that's why he hasn't responded to treatment. His vitals are weak, and I don't know what else to do for him."

Sara nodded at that, not minding the tears that crept down her cheeks. "So you don't. . .know?"

Jennifer touched her arm. "I'm so sorry you had to find out like this."

Sara nodded and settled into the chair that Jennifer provided. She took Evan's hand, careful of the IV line pumping saline solution into his bloodstream. His heart rate beeped on the monitor, suspiciously slow in her mind. Jennifer left her alone, and Sara drew in a deep breath.

She'd been wrong earlier. _This_ was what it meant to be a soldier's girl. Tears escaped with every blink, but she refused to let go of Evan's hand to wipe them away. "You hang in there," she said in her sternest voice. "Do you hear me, Evan? Don't do this to your mom and sister. Don't do this to me!"

She cried then, letting the stress of the last week taper away and make room for a new kind of stress. She might lose him, and she could barely handle that realization. After a few moments, she lifted her head and stared at his sleeping face. "You've gotta wake up. I don't want to stay SaraLeigh Johnson forever."

oOo

In the observation room, Sheppard watched Sara carefully lean over the railing of the bed to kiss Lorne's cheek. He turned away, more affected by the scene than he cared to admit. SaraLeigh Johnson was a good woman, and Lorne was one lucky man. He'd known men in his time in the Air Force who returned from war to find their wives had left their wedding rings on their pillows. Now, a woman who had no promise of a future sat next to Lorne, talking to him and urging him to wake up. Sara didn't scare easily, and she'd make it through this. He hoped she'd pull Lorne through this.

Later that evening, he spotted Rodney and Jennifer walking into the mess hall and motioned them toward his table. Jennifer looked tired, and Sheppard knew that Lorne's situation had hit her pretty hard. Those two were like siblings during their time in Pegasus. Now, with his life in the balance, she didn't seem to be getting the sleep she should. Rodney made sure his wife was settled at the table before he went to get both of them a tray. Sheppard smiled slightly at the sight, still amazed that Jennifer had transformed Rodney into a real human being.

Leaning forward, he asked the question on everyone's mind. "How is he?"

"Better." Jennifer smiled her thanks to Rodney and picked up her fork. "Sara's with him. His vitals have stabilized, and he seems to be responding now." She shook her head. "He's still got a very long recovery ahead of him. But I'm hopeful for the first time since all of this happened."

Ronon, who hadn't said anything since receiving news that Lorne might not make it, frowned. "How does Sara being here affect Lorne's recovery?"

Jennifer let out a deep breath. "It's the will to live, Ronon. Apparently, when Shomake told him that Sara was already dead, Lorne lost his will to survive." She grinned suddenly. "I never thought I'd seem him like that with a woman, least of all my high school best friend."

"Huh." Ronon returned to his meal, and Sheppard let the silence stretch. The team was relieved after a successful mission, and they all needed a good night's sleep. But he knew that none of them would rest easy until Lorne pulled through.

~TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Evan woke two days later. Sara had finally given in to her exhaustion and slept on a cot in the room, a concession she made to Jennifer's insistence that she get some rest. Given the circumstances surrounding Evan's injury, she refused to leave him for more than a quick meal in the mess hall and a shower in her guest quarters. Sheppard had promised her a tour of Atlantis when Evan awoke, but she'd taken his word for the city's many wonders. The time at Evan's bedside had given her the ability to absorb what he really did for a living. It scared her to know that, when he said TDY, he meant another planet. And that he could have died at any time. They needed to talk about it, but she knew she'd never turn her back on him. She loved him, and her kind of love meant sticking out the good and the bad times.

Sara had just drifted to sleep when movement in the room brought her awake. At first, she thought a nurse had come in to check Evan's vitals, but she saw no one else with her. The observation deck was empty for a change, probably due to the incredibly late hour. Her eyes collided with confused blue ones, however, and she smiled in spite of the tears that suddenly appeared. "Evan."

He stared at her, struggling against the tube down his throat as well as the machines. Sara rushed to his side, pushing the button to call the nurse while she spoke. "Calm down. You're on Atlantis, and you're gonna be fine." She let out an exhausted laugh. "You're gonna be okay!"

The nurse named Marie arrived, followed by Jennifer. "Colonel Lorne?" Marie's voice drew his attention, and he glanced at all the machines around him. Marie touched his arm. "It's okay. You're on Atlantis, and we're gonna get that tube out of your throat."

Jennifer gently nudged Sara to the door. "Give us a few minutes." She smiled. "He's awake, so you'll be back in here shortly. But let us get him ready."

Knowing her friend was right, Sara squeezed Evan's hand and slipped out of the room. She wanted to be there, to reassure him through this, but Jennifer wouldn't allow it. Instead, she paced the corridor beside the door until Marie appeared. Then, she rushed back to Evan's side.

He stared at her, lifting one hand to touch her face. "You're alive," he whispered, his voice not yet recovered from the intubation.

Sara took his hand and pressed it into her face, smiling as she did so. "Yeah. And so are you."

He blinked slowly. "I thought. . . .He said. . . ."

"He lied." Sara decided to wait until he'd stabilized a bit more before telling him the full story of the shoot-out. She and Sheppard left the scene as Marsh took out the second bad guy. Solano chased down a third, who eventually admitted to having been hired by Thomas Shomake of Patriot Alliance, Inc. It seemed that the mercenary group had been following her to get to Lorne, something that none of them knew until all of this came to a head and exploded.

Evan shifted in the bed, his face clenching as the pain swept through him. He let out a couple of little breaths, his strength waning. "Are you going back?"

"To San Francisco?" She smiled again at his small nod. "Maybe to visit Addison and Margie. But, until you get out of here, I'm staying right here. On Atlantis."

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do." Sara met his eyes. "I'm not leaving your side until you're well again. And even then, I'm not leaving."

He closed his eyes and forced them open. "Jennifer said. . . ."

"I know what Jennifer said." Sara brushed a kiss over the back of his hand. "Physical therapy after you get out of that bed, possible grounding for a while until your leg recovers. But you'll fly again. You'll go through the Stargate again."

He grinned. "Glad you know."

"Me, too." She shook her head, suddenly finding her fascination with Wormhole X-treme absolutely hilarious. "I always wondered why you thought my choice in movies funny."

Evan nodded again and appeared to drift to sleep. Sara laid his hand on his chest, kissing his cheek and whispering that she'd be back after a real shower, a real meal, and a few hours of sleep in a real bed. He was awake and going to recover, after all.

"Sara?" Evan's voice stopped her as she reached the door. She turned to see him watching her. "When I get out of this bed, you'll get a real proposal. A ring. . . ." He waited for her reaction.

She walked back to his side and stared into his eyes. "I don't need a real proposal, Evan. Just you."

He smiled again and finally went to sleep. Sara watched his chest rise and fall, knowing that she'd come so close to losing him. But she hadn't. She slipped from the room, found the guest quarters Mr. Woolsey had assigned to her, and let her tears of relief flow as she took a hot shower.

oOo

A month later, Evan proposed on the beach where they'd spent their first days as a couple. Sara stared at the delicate engagement ring, tears in her eyes, as he struggled to bend his bad leg so he could get on one knee. This was important to him, and she let him do it alone. When she said yes and allowed him to put the ring on her finger, he let her help him back to his feet.

His recovery was difficult for him. After their decision to marry, Evan requested a transfer away from Atlantis. She hadn't wanted him to leave the city, but she understood. She'd heard rumors that Atlantis would soon return to Pegasus, and he refused to be separated from her. Coughlin also transferred out of the city, and Sara knew that Addison had found a father for her boys. Evan loved to tease his former teammate, but he did nothing to discourage him. Sara spent hours at Margie's house, pouring over bridal magazines with Addison as they decided on the perfect wedding gown.

Evan returned to light duty before Sara had chosen a dress. They'd set a tentative date, but she wanted to give him enough time to recover. He wanted to dance with her at their wedding, and she resolved to be patient. She left her job at the San Francisco crime lab the same day he reported for duty at Cheyenne Mountain, the home of the Stargate Program. Because of her security clearance, Sara had been given a tour of the facility, and she'd been granted minor benefits such as medical care at the nearby hospital. But she remained an outsider of the job. Just like other military spouses, she assumed. She and Evan spent entire evenings as he told her story after story of his time in Pegasus. Now that the cloak of secrecy around his job had been lifted, he took great pride in his work.

In Colorado, Sara settled into the two-story storefront home Evan had bought for them. He insisted that she live there while he lived on base until their wedding. She understood why when she saw it for the first time. The entire bottom floor consisted of an empty gallery, brick walls waiting to be filled with photographs and paintings. Evan's considerable income from his time in Pegasus, not to mention the hazard pay he received for going off world all the time and the benefits of access to the local Air Force base, ensured their success in this new venture. Evan had given her her dream: the ability to move into the realm of artistic photography.

Six months after his injury, the two of them moved around the gallery, hanging several of his paintings as well as some of her better photographs of San Francisco. She'd just received word that she had not won the photography contest, but her submission had been more to satisfy him while he recovered on Atlantis than to get her out of her job at the crime lab. Evan held her when she received the news, but Sara moved swiftly back into their plans to set up the gallery. Zoey, who had been cared for by Ronon during her ordeal, followed her around like a puppy dog. Evan thought she was afraid Sara would disappear again and had nicknamed the cat "Tail."

The bell over the door jingled, and Sara turned to see Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, and both McKays enter the room. Sheppard glanced around and nodded. "Very nice, Lorne."

Evan moved to Sara's side and put an arm around her waist, his other hand still using the cane he'd need for a few more weeks before his physical therapist allowed him to return to active duty. "Yes, Sir."

Teyla, a woman Sara got to know during her time in Atlantis, strolled the artwork. "I knew you painted, Evan, but I did not realize how well."

Evan looked a bit embarrassed at the praise. For the next several minutes, the group spread out, commenting on various paintings or photographs. Finally, they all gathered in front of the door again, and Evan narrowed his eyes. "You're leaving."

Sheppard nodded. "In the morning. The approval came through today, and Woolsey's anxious to get back."

McKay stared at him. "Are you kidding? _I'm_ anxious to get back."

Evan glanced at Sara. "Just don't forget you're expected for the wedding."

Jennifer, who had agreed to Sara's her matron-of-honor, smiled. "Of course not."

Sheppard motioned to Evan. "So I hear you're gonna be workin' at the SGC."

"Yes, Sir." Evan straightened. "Colonel Mitchell was given command of his own ship, so I've got the dubious honor of choosing the new SG-1. Teal'c and Dr. Jackson have already stopped by to give me recommendations on personnel. And I've got my eye on someone new, with a different skill set."

Sara grinned at that. She'd heard of the legendary members of SG-1 and felt a bit of pride that her future husband would get to lead the second incarnation of that notorious team. She just wondered who this newcomer would be.

Sheppard stuck out his hand. "It's been an honor, Evan."

"Likewise, John." Evan shook Sheppard's hand, and the two men shared a back-slapping hug.

"Atlantis won't be the same without you." Sheppard sent a quick look Sara's way. "No offense."

Evan glanced at Sara. "It'll be worth it, Sir."

Ronon stepped forward to give both of them a hug. McKay settled for handshakes all around while Teyla and Jennifer shared long hugs with Evan. Sara watched her fiance say goodbye to his closest friends and held his hand as they walked out the door.

"Do you regret it?" she asked after they'd disappeared.

Evan pulled her into his arms. "I've got you. Why would I regret it?"

Still feeling a bit nostalgic, Sara laid her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. Sometime within the next year, she would marry this man and spend the rest of her life as his wife.

Sometimes, being a soldier's girl was difficult. Harsh. But, she decided, being _this_ soldier's girl would be worth every minute of it.

~TBC


	17. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** As promised, here's the final chapter. Hope you all enjoy, though I would recommend a coffee alert AND fluff alert! My beta said, "Tell them to brush their teeth after reading!" So, consider yourself warned. Enjoy! ~lg

oOo

Detective Nathan Keith left the police department with a deep sigh. His day had been endless, and it was about to get even longer. Six months had passed since he'd been shot. Doctors said it was Sara's quick thinking that saved his life, but he knew better. He'd wanted to live, to catch the men who nearly killed Lorne.

Thinking of the Lieutenant Colonel brought a frown to Keith's face. He'd initially seen Lorne as a rival for Sara's attentions. After all, she chose Lorne over Nathan. But, after getting to know the man, Nathan knew that Lorne was right for Sara. They suited one another. When they moved to Colorado, he'd been sorry to see them go although he knew that Lorne's military career meant frequent reassignment.

He'd gone to Colorado just before going back on duty. His injuries, while less severe than Lorne's, took a while to heal. He'd traveled to their gallery, seen the photos that Sara took, perused the paintings that Lorne had done, and finally accepted them as a couple. He'd always known Sara as a phenomenal crime scene photographer, but he never knew she had an artistic side. Looking at those photographs, he'd seen Sara in an entirely new light. She wasn't just a member of the crime lab and a beautiful woman with an intriguing penchant for science fiction. She was an artist, someone who looked through the lens of a camera to see the beauty in life.

Nathan shook his head. He didn't think about the romanticism of life very often. His job as a detective killed that instinct. But Sara and Lorne embodied it. Nathan had worried when Sara didn't appear at the hospital. Then, he learned that she'd spent days at Lorne's side, talking to him and urging him to wake up. And the man had listened to her.

Now, however, he drove out of the SFPD parking lot and headed for the rendezvous point. Lorne has called that day, said he had something he wanted to present. Nathan knew it had something to do with the military, otherwise the rigorous background check wouldn't have happened. Nor would he have been asked to sign the Non-disclosure Agreement. He was smart enough to figure out that someone wanted to hire him. He grinned as he left San Francisco behind. He loved his job, but he wasn't above taking a much better offer if it arose. He didn't want to stay a detective forever. While he wasn't as young as he used to be, working for the US military on classified military investigations. . . . That spoke of danger and intrigue more than his job did now. And, with Sara no longer around, Nathan craved danger and intrigue.

The rendezvous point, a decrepit parking lot next to a run-down hiking trail, was empty when he arrived. Nathan wasn't worried. He parked and turned off his car, knowing that Lorne would appear anytime. _The man must be into something big_, he thought as he watched for headlights coming toward him. _Otherwise, this cloak-and-dagger routine wouldn't be necessary._

The air above the hood of his car rippled, and a cylindrical ship appeared. It hovered in mid-air. Nathan swore and would have jumped backwards, but his seat stopped him from doing more than choking himself on the seatbelt. "What the. . . .?" He couldn't even finish the sentence. The cylindrical ship—if it could be called that—rose slightly, banked, and set down on the pavement facing him. Inside, Lorne wore dress blues, as did the other military officer with him, a tall, gray-haired man with a smirk on his face.

Nathan scrambled from the car as the back hatch of the ship lowered. He circled it, his mouth hanging open. He didn't care. He'd only read about these things! There for a time, he'd researched different science fiction movies and genres, hoping to catch Sara's attention with a killer movie. He wasn't an avid sci-fi nut like she was, but he had his fair share of knowledge. Cloaking devices just _didn't_ exist!

Or so he'd thought. By the time he got to the rear of the ship, Lorne had walked out. "Keith."

"Uh. . . ." Nathan wasn't able to form a coherent sentence. He pointed to the ship.

The other military officer clapped Lorne on his shoulder. "Give him time, Colonel. He obviously needs it."

Nathan stared at the two of them, hating their grins but unable to argue with them. He _definitely _needed the time. "How. . .? What. . .?" Pulling himself together, he faced the two men. "_Where_ did you come from?"

The officer—a general based on his uniform—shrugged. "Followed you from the precinct."

"You _what?_"

Lorne actually grinned. "Detective Nathan Keith, meet General Jack O'Neill, Homeworld Security."

"Home. . . .Wait, don't you mean Home_land_ Security?"

"No." O'Neill stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet ya."

Nathan shook the man's hand, trying to figure out why there would be such a ridiculous department as Homeworld Security. "O-kay." He glanced at Lorne. "I'd say this is all a practical joke, only this. . .whatever it is. . .tells me you're on the up and up."

Lorne shook his hand as well. "It's called a Puddle Jumper, and it's one of several we obtained in the Pegasus galaxy while I was stationed on the City of Atlantis."

Nathan nearly went cross-eyed. "Pegasus gal—You're off your rocker, Lorne!"

"C'mon." Lorne motioned. "I'll show you."

O'Neill followed Lorne into the ship, but Nathan wasn't too sure about it. He stepped carefully inside and stared at everything until O'Neill practically pushed him into the copilot's seat. Lorne sat in the pilot's chair, confidently bringing the thing online and opening up a semi-transparent display without so much as touching a button.

"So," Nathan asked as the ship lifted off, "where are we going?"

"Oh, you'll see." O'Neill sat back in his chair.

Nathan glanced down at the seat. "Don't we need seatbelts or something?"

"Not necessary." Lorne shook his head. "Inertial dampeners keep all but the most significant G-forces at bay."

"Significant?"

O'Neill grinned. "As in a crash."

"Oh." Nathan would have said more, but the scattering of clouds whizzed past the window. And they continued to climb. His ears popped several times, but he didn't mind until he realized that he was seeing more than just distant stars. Leaving Earth's atmosphere caused the shield around the ship to glow slightly orange. "Whoa! Wait!"

"You wanted proof," O'Neill said.

Nathan turned to stare at him. "Proof, yes! But kidnapping me and taking me into _outer space_?"

O'Neill waved a hand. "This isn't outer space." He pointed. "Turn around."

Nathan did, and his jaw would have hit the dash of this ship if it could have come unhinged. The Earth whirled beneath him, a beautiful, sparkling orb of blue, green, and white. Lorne piloted the Puddle Jumper around the curve of the planet, bringing the moon into view in a spectacular reveal that rivaled anything Nathan had ever seen in movies. He stared as the moon grew, dwarfing the ship that hovered in orbit over Earth. Various satellites caught the light of the sun, but the ship was larger than all of them.

Lorne glanced at him. "That's the F-303. It's official designation is _Pendergast_, and it's commanded by Colonel Cameron Mitchell. It'll soon join Atlantis as their flagship."

"And Atlantis is. . . .?"

"Until recently, in the middle of San Francisco Bay." Lorne shrugged. "They left about a month ago, headed back to the Pegasus galaxy."

"Okay, so why are you showing me all of this?"

O'Neill grinned at him. "Why did you sign the Non-disclosure Agreement?"

Nathan glared. "I thought it was a high-paying job with the US military."

"Oh, it is." O'Neill grinned. "Lorne?"

"Back in 1927, archaeologists discovered a huge ring buried in Giza. . . . ."

Nathan sat transfixed as Lorne told him about the Stargate Program and all of the advances humanity had made. It sounded like the best science fiction book he'd ever read, only he believed every word. After all, he was in an alien ship in orbit around Earth.

After Lorne finished his lengthy explanation, O'Neill shrugged. "So, whaddya think?"

"About?"

Lorne grinned. "Well, General O'Neill once commanded SG-1, as did Colonel Mitchell. It's now my turn, and I want you on my team."

"Wait." Nathan stared. "You want me on a team that travels to_ other planets_?"

"Yes." Lorne glanced at him. "Your SWAT experience makes you an ideal candidate, as does your investigative history with SFPD. Not to mention that I actually trust you."

"Oh, gee, thanks." Nathan couldn't keep his sarcasm under control. "So, basically, you want me to join an elite team that travels to other planets, seeking strange new worlds, and boldly going where no man has gone before?" he asked, unable to keep from quoting the signature line of Star Trek.

O'Neill nodded. "Yep."

"Oh." Nathan frowned. "Can I think about it?"

"Yep."

Lorne took them back to the parking lot, but Nathan didn't care about anything. Right now, he needed to think and think hard. No matter if he took this job or not, he would always look at this as the pivotal moment in his life.

oOo

Sara glanced up as Evan walked into his mother's house. She smiled at her fiance, already hoping that the next two weeks would go quickly. Their wedding was totally planned, and they were merely waiting for the day. While she knew she'd see him in his dress uniform then, she couldn't help staring at him now. While tired, he'd never looked so good to her. "How did it go?"

Evan nodded, moving to sit next to her on the couch. "Good. I think he'll say yes."

"I hope so." She cuddled into her fiance's side, not minding the medals and pins on his uniform. She loved this man, and her decision to marry him was simply the logical step in that relationship. "I bet the reveal was great."

"Better than." Evan glanced at her. "You didn't have to wait up."

"Yes, I did." She smiled at him, earning herself a kiss. Evan drew back, however, and said a quick goodnight as she escaped upstairs. They'd decided to wait for their wedding before pursuing any kind of physical intimacy, a decision Sara didn't regret but was made even more difficult as the days passed.

The next week brought smiles and laughter as they spent it with Evan's family. Brian Coughlin had proposed to Evan's sister, and Addison's two boys were ecstatic about getting a daddy. Brian was thrilled to have a family. Their dinners passed with laughter, and Sara knew it would only get better once she and Evan said, "I do."

Nathan accepted Evan's job offer a day later, much to Sara's surprise. She'd expected the detective to run for the hills. Instead, he gave his notice to the police department and set about packing to move to Colorado Springs. He even came by Margie's house when Evan was out dealing with work issues, apologizing for how he'd not accepted Sara's answer when he first asked her out on a date. Sara understood. Nathan's boss was about to be her husband, and the man wanted to remain on good terms with his boss. She even told him as much.

Three days after returning to Colorado Springs, Sara opened her email to see a news article from Margie. She called Evan to the computer, and they both read with amusement. Apparently, there had been a drunk out near that deserted parking lot when Evan and O'Neill ambushed Nathan. The article stated that a Mr. Frank Edwards reported the existence of UFOs. He claimed to have witnessed the abduction of a police officer, though he couldn't tell which one, by two blue men in a flying cylinder. Most people thought it a delusion brought on by too much moonshine, but Sara, Evan, and Nathan shared a good laugh over the description.

A week later, Sara stood at the back of a church, alone. She'd carefully planned this day for months and knew that it would change her life. The wedding march began, and she started that long walk by herself. Jennifer Keller-McKay had already walked down the aisle on Brian Coughlin's arm. Teyla Emmagan and Colonel John Sheppard followed. Now, it was her turn. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the carpet, drawing a smile from Evan as she appeared. He held her gaze as she slowly walked to him, both of them turning to face General O'Neill.

By the end of the day, Sara was completely exhausted but totally happy. She lay in her husband's arms, smiling as she remembered all they'd gone through. The trials and triumphs had forged their relationship, and she knew she'd made the right decision. She'd become a soldier's girl. More than anything, she'd become _this_ soldier's girl. And she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

~The End~


End file.
